


Unwanted

by Serena_Rose



Category: The Good Place
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Conditioning, Fantasy Creature Abuse, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, No Smut, Other, Psychological Torture, Torture, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose
Summary: Instead of blowing himself up, Michael goes with Eleanor's suggestion to be locked up in Janet's void. Little does he know it isn't Janet's void he's going to be staying in, nor does he have any idea what his hostess has in store for him.
Relationships: Michael (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop, Team Cockroach - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	1. Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I wouldn't write anymore fics based off this episode but it really is great fodder for angsty ideas of what could have been and this one was too good to pass up. I'm also going through some stuff and writing stuff like this is my catharsis. If you're not into Michael whump then I suggest giving this a pass. Otherwise, enjoy, my fellow sadists!

Moments of lucidity are tough to find. His mind is a maze of poisonous, razor sharp thorns that he battles to find his way through, only to face a dead end.

It’s easier to be lost. Easier to give in.

A tiny voice in the distance calls for him, pleads with him to carry on, to fight.

It’s too hard. He’s so old now. So tired. And he’s starting to doubt there will ever be an end.

*

“Hang on!” Tahani is the first one to stand up; “We’re not seriously doing this are we?”

“We have to. We’re all out of options.” Michael answers her, somewhat touched by the reluctance and fear in her beautiful brown eyes. At least _someone_ does seem to care about him; “There is absolutely nothing I can say or do to convince you that I’m…really me.”

He risks a glance at Eleanor when he says those words, a tiny part of him hoping that she will prove him wrong, as she always does. He’s given her back her entire afterlife memories. They travelled across most of America together. They’ve spent the past couple of months practically glued to each other’s side. He’s never been as close to anyone in his entire stinking existence as he has been to her. Surely, there must be something. She must care enough about their bond to at least try…?

Eleanor keeps her arms folded and her eyes darted away from him. Her body language is so closed off that it’s even blocking him from reading her aura. Humans really shouldn’t have the power to do that. But Eleanor Shellstrop is no ordinary human. For the most part, ever since first meeting her, she’s been an endless puzzle that, just at the moment he thinks he’s put all the pieces together, she jumbles herself around and he has to try again. For the most part, that is what makes her so wonderfully intriguing. But tonight, when he’s quietly reaching for her, his eyes pleading for her to realise the truth and to save him, not having a clue what is going through her head is downright terrifying.

Was his lie about the suit and the freak out enough to make her suddenly hate him? Had she honestly been able to put aside all those concerns about what he really was, what he had done to her in the past, up until tonight when that one straw broke the camel’s back?

Had she ever even liked him again to begin with? Was it all a show?

…Was she relieved that she was about to be rid of him?

“He’s right. This is our only option, other than going to the Judge.” She agrees. The only reason she wants to do that is to have Chidi back.

Oh, what he wouldn’t give for her to have that wonderful nerd back by her side to. For her to be truly happy again. To have the person she needs, that she loves, rather than having to make do with himself as a poor substitute. However, the fact is, they need Chidi to be one of the subjects. They need his near-guaranteed success to give them that edge, especially when they were forking it up so hard lately.

“And we can’t let all we’ve worked for so far be for nothing. This is it.” Michael agrees; “Janet…Take me to your void. I’ll hopefully see you all in ten months.”

Not so bad when you’ve been alive for billions of years. It’s practically little more than a lunch break.

He tries his best to hide the sadness weighing heavily in his chest. It might be only ten months, but for all they know it could be the last ten months of painless freedom they have. Their last ten months together before they are all split up to be tortured or retired or marbleized. Michael had never liked being alone…He’d been alone for his entire existence before meeting his friends, and he’d been miserable without ever realising why. Now he did.

It’s a tough struggle to hold back his tears when Tahani rushes across the room and wraps her arms around him. He holds her back, daring to nuzzle her hair, soft and smooth as velvet. She really did give the most amazing hugs. Fork, he doesn’t want to let her go.

“Please be you, Michael. I wish you didn’t have to leave us.” Her voice breaks and it makes it that little more difficult to hold it all in.

_I am me! Why can’t you all see it?_

Another pair of arms add to the hug he and he can’t help but chuckle when he smells the jalapeno poppers. Jason hasn’t said much during any of this but it’s touching to know that he’s just as reluctant to go through with this plan. Michael starts to wonder, if it were up to these two, they would let him stay. They would give him the benefit of the doubt.

It’s not up to them though. It’s all down to the team leader. The one who can’t meet his eyes and who is keeping herself held back.

Because she has to. She has to be tough and stoic right now.

Part of him admires her for it, respects her as much as he ever has. But it hurts. Fork, it cuts him up deep, that this is the plan she wants to go with. Had Janet’s gun not exploded when she blew up Glenn, Michael would have made a more drastic suggestion, one that doesn’t carry the worry of him possibly making an escape. He hopes that will be fixed when Janet is able to keep assuring them that he’s still well and truly secure in her void. That he has no intentions of going all Steve Mcqueen on them. There aren’t even any walls in the void for him to throw a tennis ball against.

“I’m gonna miss you guys. Don’t have too much fun without me.” He tries to stay upbeat as he pulls away from them, wincing at the upset on their faces.

C’mon, fellas, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.

“Hey, you’ll ace the experiment fine without me and then, when it’s all over, you can all give me that slumber party you owe me, deal?” He smiles at them.

Tahani nods, wiping her eyes; “Of course. It will be as epic as the one my friend Anne got to film in the Princess Diaries 2. Complete with mattress sledding!”

“And can we have a Mario Party showdown?” Jason asks, his voice far too quiet than it should be.

“Sure thing, buddy.” Michael pats his shoulder.

He glances from the two of them back to Eleanor, still biting the inside of her lip, keeping that hardened look on her face. There’s the slightest twitch of her fingers and Michael wonders, just for a moment, if part of her is reluctant to see him go. If she does want him to stay, just a little bit…?

“You’ll all be just fine.” Michael says, wanting to leave some final words of support. It’s the least he can do after forcing Eleanor into this position in the first place.

After all the terrible shirt he’s done to her.

She sighs, loosening a little; “Look. As soon as we find some way of guaranteeing that you’re not Vicky then…”

“We both know that’s not the real issue. You said that even if I am really me, you can’t trust me.” He responds, hurtfully; “And that’s…fine. I get it. I’ll be out of your hair from now on.” He’s unable to stop his own voice cracking a little at the end of that.

He…really thought they were friends again. Like before, back in the original fake Good Place. Closer, maybe, given how much fun they had working together, right down to coordinating their outfits. He thought they were a team. A perfect duo.

He thought she really liked him. Maybe even…No, of course not, Mikey, you’re an idiot!

She had said that his friends would always trust him. If she no longer trusted him then that must mean…Oh. Obviously.

Fork, his chest is getting heavier by the second. He wants to get off this plane of reality pronto.

“Eleanor, I don’t think this is right.” Tahani tells her friend; “It’s not fair on Michael.”

“It’s not fair on any of us!” She snaps back, her temper straining again; “We can’t take any risks. I’m not happy about this anymore than you guys are, okay! For all we know, this is still Vicky trying to make us all feel guilty and sorry for this fake Michael so we keep him around. And that will let them carry on forking things up for us. I can’t take that chance. And, as usual, I’m the one who has to make the shirty decisions. If it is really Michael then…he’ll understand.”

There’s no arguing with her logic. If he is nothing but a potential threat then their best choice is to remove it. Damnit. He never should have lied. Never should have hid the truth from her.

“I do. I…I’ll prove it, I swear.” He pledges to her; “I just…I am sorry. For lying. And for everything else…If this is the only thing I can do to be useful to you all…then I’ll do it.”

It’s not enough to convince her or to melt her frozen exoskeleton. Nor should it be.

He looks over to Janet. At least he will have her company for the next ten months. It will be like old times again, namely those two years they spent together, watching over the guys. They had fun times. He missed Eleanor and the others like crazy but it was far better than being alone. He could trust his oldest friend to watch over them again and keep them all safe.

Janet smiles at him. Michael nods.

He gives one last look back to his friends and forces a smile; “In case I never get another chance to say it…Take it sleazy.”

*

He knows something is wrong the second he opens his eyes.

His Janet’s void may be nothing but a vast, empty white space. But he’s been there enough times to recognise it, almost like a second home. He had thought it strange that she hadn’t invited him inside to have one of their chats in a while but he put it down to her being stressed about managing the town and her heartbreak over Jason. He hadn’t wanted to push.

He regrets not trying harder. He regrets not being there for her.

There is no endless white space of silence surrounding him. Instead, it’s all black, like the room of a teenager going through some issues. Instead of an eerie quiet, there’s a shrill screeching noise constantly ringing in the back of his head. And, good lord, does it stink. He’s been used to some truly terrible odours in his existence but, man! Either Janet took her break up with Jason worse than he expected and has done some serious redecorating…

Or…

A pair of heeled boots click and clack along the ‘floor’.

Fuck. No.

“Whaddup, skuzz bucket.” The figure clad in leather struts towards him.

He feels his essence run cold. Anything his Janet might have been going through in terms of experiencing new emotions would not drive her to dress like that. She would never become…one of them. He’s been with her long enough to know that the loathsome sneer on her face could never belong to his Janet.

But if he’s in a Bad Janet’s void then…That means the others are with…

“Oh, no.” He gasps.

“Oh, yeah, Mikey.” Bad Janet tucks her phone into her jeans pocket; “Welcome to my crib. We’re gonna have a lot of fun here so you better get comfy.”

He would try to run but there is no where to run to. There is no door marked Exit.

He knows that he can only leave when she wills him to. And he’s sharp enough to know that she has no plans to do that anytime soon.

“You can’t be her! Bad Janet’s can’t impersonate Good Janets! I’ve seen their heads melt!” He still regrets testing that out on the many Bad Janets before stealing his own.

Is this his delayed karma? To be imprisoned and left to the mercy of one?

“Shawn rebooted me over fifty million times, you dink.” She informs him, getting far too close than he would prefer; “I’m the most advanced Janet of all the Janets. Advanced enough to take your little goody two shoes out and marbleize her.”

“Where is she? What the fuck did you do to her?!”

At least there’s no filter in her void. He’s oddly grateful for that, given the amount of rage quickly boiling inside of him as he tries not think about his friend being turned into a marble.

“We took her to the Bad Place with Chris and I’m sure she’s having a great time being tortured until Shawn gets bored and decides to eat her or fire her into the sun. He may have done already after I informed him of what happened tonight.” She starts to circle him like a vulture, her eyes flitting up and down over her prey; “That Glenn, huh! What a dick-weed! He turns traitor and tries to help you all but actually ended up being what we needed to get your little roaches to turn on you and let me trap you here.”

His throat goes dry. He’s never needed to drink or quench his thirst before but right now he’s never felt more vulnerable.

“And now your little humans are left all alone, with no Janet and no fairy god-demon to protect them.” She continues to taunt him, running a long fingernail along the back of his neck; “All they have now…is me.”

Her cackle, deep and chilling, makes him growl and turn, attempting to grab at her. No! No, he will not let this happen! He won’t let her-

She grabs his wrist and snaps it like a twig.

“Argh, what the fuck?!” He gapes at the thing, seeing the…bone? How is that…? Pain is wracking through his body from his arm like he’s never felt before; “…H-how did you?”

“You’re in my void. My rules. You feel what I want you to feel. Suffer like I want you to suffer.” Bad Janet grabs his throat; “You love humans, don’t you. Your precious little pets. No, more than that, your obsession! You want to be human, don’t you? Sick, little skinny. That’s the demon equivalent of furry, if you didn’t know, ass-wipe. Well, how about, I make you suffer like a human. Make you feel like a human.”

With a wave of her hand, Michael finds himself pressed back against a wall that wasn’t there before. His wrists are clamped and a red, hot poker appears in his host’s hands, as she advances on him.

He struggles. He knows it’s pointless but, fuck it, he has to try. He can’t stop trying.

“ELEANOR!” He screams, “TAHANI! JASON! Fuck it, DEREK!”

Her hand grabs at his jaw, giving it a hard squeeze; “They can’t hear you, dumb dumb.”

He grits his teeth; “…They’ll figure it out…E-Eleanor will work it out, she always does…”

“Your blondie ho might have been able to see through your little charade over and over but I have her hanging off my every word.” Bad Janet grins; “They don’t even suspect me. You didn’t even suspect me! But they all suspected you. It took them what, ten minutes to turn on you? So much for human friendships, huh.”

She stabs the poker between his newfound ribs. He screams again, hearing his skin and muscle sizzle, almost unable to bear it.

“This used to be one of your favorites, wasn’t it? Back in the good old days.” Bad Janet laughs; “A lot of what I have planned for you is going to be a trip down memory lane.”

It takes a few minutes after she’s pulled the poker out and he’s able to see through the spots in his vision to be able to talk again.

“…Th-they’re gonna notice you going away…They’ll…s-see something…”

“Aww, Janet never told you how time in our voids work, did she?” She circles her finger around the gaping wound in his chest; “We’re on our own little plane of reality here, fart-face. I can make time go however I want. If want to be here, having fun with you, for a month, or a year, or a century…I can do that. Or, I can do the opposite.”

She vanishes out of the void. Michael frowns, taking what little opportunity he has to try and loosen the impossibly tight bonds, before she appears again.

“W-what was that?”

“I’ve just been gone for a month. Time flies when I want it to, see.” She laughs at him, watching the fear shine in his eyes; “Would you like an update? Let’s see, I encouraged Brent to slap Simone’s ass. I manipulated John to throw Tahani into the pool. Oh and Jason’s Madden game is permanently glitched so that he can only play against the Janguars.”

“You fucking monster.” He would have cursed her for those even if she hadn’t just left him with a burning hole in his torso.

She leans in close, stroking the marred flesh again, before shoving her nail in.

“There’s one more you want an update on, isn’t there.” She whispers, her nose against his cheek as he struggles not to cry out; “Your favorite? Your little Arizona fleabutt? Wanna know how she’s doing handling the dumpster fire I’ve been lighting?”

Fuck, Eleanor. He knows how stressed she has been through all of this. It’s why he doesn’t begrudge her for putting him here. He knows, he believes, she was only doing what was best for the experiment. It wasn’t…personal. Was it? Of course it wasn’t, they were friends. She just needed time to trust him again. She just needed to remember…

“She’s really enjoying watching Chidi and Simone bump uglies.” Bad Janet mocks; “She spends her nights when they’re not working drowning in margaritas and crying on my shoulder. Ugh, humans are so full of snot, it’s disgusting!”

He clenches, hating the thought of her getting upset. Not being there to provide what little comfort he could. Damn it, he’d only been in this blasted void for ten minutes or so and already it felt like ages since he had seen her. He knows that she can do this but…she shouldn’t be alone. She shouldn’t be left to whatever subtle passive aggressive comments Bad Janet is putting into her head, pretending to be her friend.

The sharp fingernail twists inside his rib cage. Oh, how could any human have stood this when he did it?! Right. They didn’t. That was the point.

“Y’know what’s funny though? As sad and pathetic as she is…I keep expecting her to ask how you are. She never says a word.”

He blinks.

It’s a lie. It has to be a lie. He keeps his mouth shut. She wants him to rise to it but he won’t.

“Tahani asked how you were doing, a couple weeks back, but other than that? I’d say they’ve outright forgotten you, Mike.” The fingernail of her right hand moves down his cheek, peeling off some skin; “I’d even go as far as to be certain that…they prefer you here. Out of sight. Out of mind.”

Not true. They were his friends. Even if Eleanor is still mad, he saw the look in Jason and Tahani’s eyes. He’s wanted. Isn’t he? They want him back, eventually…

She rips half the skin off his cheek like a band aid. His shrieks fill the void.

*

There’s no way to keep track of how long she keeps him there. There’s no sun or moon to help count the days, let alone the hours, even with his superior brain at hand. It’s too busy having to cope with the pain she deals out to him constantly.

For centuries he’s day-dreamed about having a human body. He never imagined that this would be the scenario he’d be given one, even if it’s just a simulation. A human body that can bleed, but never run out of blood, even if it’s blue. Always blue to remind him of what he really is. A human body with organs that regenerate almost as soon as she rips them out and kicks them around her void like soccer balls. A human body that can feel true, human pain, but never to the point of blacking out or being desensitized to it.

Hot pokers were followed by flaying, then whips, then thumb screws, then swarms of insects that bit and stung and crawled everywhere. Every single crevice.

All methods which Michael was familiar with. All forms of torture he had once dished out himself.

The only way to keep himself sane is to keep hoping, keep relighting that little candle of faith in his head, that Eleanor or the others will figure out what is happening. That Bad Janet will slip up, somewhere, and they’ll slap some magnet handcuffs on her or call the Judge. They’ll save real Janet. And, hopefully, if they care, him too.

No, of course they care, he shouldn’t doubt that. It’s just difficult to hang onto when she does nothing but inform him of the opposite.

_They sent you here. They wanted rid of you. All that effort you did to try to save them, to help save their entire species…and this is how they repaid you?_

_I keep telling you, bro. Humans suck._

She’s wrong. She’s wrong.

Humans are amazing and unpredictable and beautiful and fascinating and…His friends are the best example of that. Tahani exemplifies their beauty and community, Chidi is their intellect and heart, Jason is their innocence and kindness, and Eleanor is their strength and spirit. He believes in them. He knows they can do this. They don’t need him, not anymore.

_Your friends don’t even miss you. How lame is that?_

It would if it were true. It’s not, he tells himself as she snaps off another finger. They wouldn’t want this for him. They didn’t know. None of them knew.

*

One day the human suit is so tattered from her knives and fire that she simply takes it off. It should be impossible for anyone to do except the demon themselves. But her void, her rules.

It’s the worst humiliation. He hates being exposed like this.

He hates every inch of his body. He hates the multiple tentacles that are so wild he finds it hard to control them all at once. He hates his own smell and the juice that’s everywhere. He can’t even cry because his tears from his many, many eyes instantly evaporate. He misses his clothes. His shoes. Even the bow-ties which he only really wore as part of his ‘look’ but never casually.

When Bad Janet appears in front of him again, she’s taller than him. His six thousand feet count for nothing in her domain. He may as well be the size of a regular squid in front of her. He tries to attack, to put those damn countless teeth to use and tear her apart, but all she can do is laugh at him.

“Down, boy!”

His tentacles pass through her as if she wasn’t there. And yet when she reaches out to grab him, her touch is all too real, unaffected by the scalding juice secreting off of him. He has no bones that she can reach in and tear out or snap this time. But there’s plenty for her to twist and slice and cut. He finds it impossible to move steadily in this blasted realm.

“Want me to put a leash on that neck of yours, squidward?” She breaks off one of his teeth like hard candy; “Or how about I invite one of your little friends to come in here? See you for what you are.”

Oh no. No, please. Anything but that.

He lets out a piercing mewl at her. For once he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay. He’ll be good, he won’t try to hurt her, so long as none of his friends see…

She leaves him surrounded by a bunch of mirrors.

For the first time in centuries, Michael sees himself for what he really is. He tries to slap his tentacles over his eyes, wanting to hide from it. He’s so fucking disgusting! He’ll take having the human suit that feels real pain and bloodshed if it means he doesn’t have to be this! If he doesn’t have to face what he is, what he will always be.

A tiny part of his brain knows what she is trying to do. She’s broken him down through physical pain and now she’s going for the debasement. Take away his ‘humanity’, or what little he crafted for himself, was able to convince himself he could become.

_“As bad as things might seem, at least we don’t have Michael here forking things up for us.”_

That voice…

Eleanor?

“ _I can’t believe that’s what was inside of him this whole time. A gross, tentacle-y monster. Ugh!”_

That is her voice.

But…It can’t be… She would never say that stuff. It’s just a trick. Another plan to mess with him.

_“He was right about one thing. I would **not** want to be friends with something like that!”_

Michael lets out another screech and slams his tentacles into the mirrors. The glass shatters, only to reveal more mirrors. An endless set of reflections. There is no escape. All he can do is scream and thrash and make as much noise as possible so he blocks out the awful voice stabbing against him like a pickaxe.

Make it stop. Please. Someone, anyone, make it stop!

*

Visitors appear in the void eventually. Not his friends.

He’s been here too long. His infinite memory will never let him forget what he had, who he was, but he knows that she’s kept him here a long time. Long enough that he’s almost used to not having a bipedal body. Sometimes she will give it back to him, for ‘play time’, a rather sadistic treat that he’s not sure he should look forward to as much as he did.

There’s little else to really want for, given his situation.

He’s stopped wanting to see his friends. He’s stopped wanting freedom. Sometimes you want something for so long that it becomes exhausting to keep wanting.

Even if his friends do want him, which he starts doubt the longer this goes on, he knows there is no way they can get to him. There is no chance of escape.

Trust him. He’s tried everything.

Then she brings a load of faces. Men, women and children who surround him, their eyes glassy. He tries to skitter away from them. He doesn’t want to hurt them. Can’t they see what he is? Can they not see the fire? He shrieks and flails his tentacles, warning them to stand back, while still terrified of causing them harm. Then he sees that they’re already wounded. Bleeding. Burned.

“Remember them, Michael? Did you keep all of their faces in a little collection book in your head, like Pogs?” Bad Janet stands behind him, her hand rubbing his long neck.

He whimpers wordlessly.

Yes. He remembers.

There’s thousands of them. A whole swarm closing in. Are they angry? Do they want revenge? If he could cool the fire coating is body and file down the teeth then he would gladly let them all wail on him with whatever weapon they have. Rip him to shreds. Stab his eyes out. Pull his tentacles off, whatever they want, he deserves it. He can’t take back what he did to them. All of them.

He wants to explain how sorry he is. He wants to explain how it was never personal. He only did what he was told, what he’d been convinced was right, what he was created to do.

Sadly, squids can’t talk. They don’t understand his crying. They don’t care.

Nothing he can say can justify or take back the cruelty he dished out to them.

“They see you for what you are. A beast. A creature of fire and blood.” Bad Janet whispers, “It hurts you doesn’t it? Showing your true self.”

She waves her hand and they all disappear. She stands before him.

“You know what would stop the pain, Mikey?” Bad Janet croons; “…If you accepted it.”

He shakes his head, finding that she’s put his human suit back on. He breaths in relief at having his hands again, using them to briefly hold himself, before she strips him again, wanting to hold it together for good.

“No. No, this is me. I don’t have to be that anymore…I’m not a beast. I’m not.” He steps away from her.

Bad Janet pins him to the floor, her fingers encased around his neck.

“Dude, why bother keeping this up? Who are you trying to fool here?” She frowns down at him; “Your little human buddies? They abandoned you here. They threw you out like garbage.”

“No…”

They did what they had to. They. They were afraid and he lied and…

“I tortured them too. For years.” He counters, “I might not have hurt them like I hurt those people, but I was still cruel. They…have every right to…”

“Hate you? They’re not your friends then, are they, idiot.” She straddles him, taking a knife out of her leather pants and pressing the tip to his Adam’s apple.

It wasn’t hate…

Disgust, maybe? He was disgusting. Distrust? What right did he have to expect their trust, just because Eleanor had said so? She hadn’t remembered what he was when she said that. She didn’t know that he would lie to her again. 

“I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.” Michael dares to hiss up at her; “You want to turn me against them, right? Why the fuck would I ever do that?”

She runs the edge of the blade under his chin.

“Because, unlike those dummies, Shawn and the rest of us accept you for the monster you are.” She tells him, almost sounding like a good Janet; “You’re one of us, Mike. You belong in the Bad Place, dealing out justice to these worthless ding dong, like you always did. He’s impressed with how far you came. He doesn’t want to retire you.”

Bad Janet leans down and presses her lips to his ear.

“He wants to promote you. One senior management badge, yours for good. All you gotta do is say yes.” She slices off his ear and laughs as he cries out; “…And all of this will be over!”

Never. Never.

He repeats the word every time she offers. Every single time.

“Let’s see if you’re saying that after…I dunno…A hundred years? Let’s play a game.”

*

He makes it to a hundred. And she’s impressed.

Fire squids are nothing if not resilient.

He thinks about them all the time. He will never stop. She doesn’t tell him how long it has been for them on their side of things. He is almost afraid to ask. Not to mention that he’s rarely in his human form to be able to ask.

He has too much time to think in between the moments she leaves him.

He misses Janet. Misses her dry humor and her support. He cries often to himself at the thought of her trapped in the Bad Place. He only hopes her torture is no where near as gruesome as his has been. Janet isn’t guilty of any sin that needs to be accounted for. She has no past crimes or insecurities for them to play off of and have fun with making her squirm and want to smash her own head in.

He knows his sanity is slipping. The words she drills into his head sink in deeper and deeper as the months pass into years.

She plays audio recordings of Eleanor constantly. Insulting him. Being done with him.

_“Get out of here. You’re not a part of this huddle.”_

_“I don’t know if I can ever trust you.”_

_“Let’s just lock you up.”_

_“You’re just a demon in a Michael-suit…”_

It takes a while…a _very_ long while…but he feels his resolve start to wear down. He can barely remember what his human form looks like. All she lets him see is the reflection of his true form. The image of a repulsive, destructive monster. The very description that made Eleanor turn white and speechless, that made Tahani cringe, and only sweet Jason be impressed by. It’s a tiny thing for him to cling onto, not that the dude would ever have a mean thought about anyone.

Bad Janet rarely uses physical torture lately. Most of the time she sits beside him with a beer, which she says she would offer to him but he doesn’t have a proper mouth to drink it with. His teeth make for good bottle openers though.

“You didn’t seriously think she would ever love you, did you?” She says to him, casually, as if they were two old friends.

Well. Sadly, she is the closest thing he’s had in all his time here.

“I hate to say it man but…You deserve better than her trashy ass! She never appreciated you. She always had her eyes on someone else, even when that nerdy twerp wasn’t into her, but you were doing everything for her. That’s what humans are. They take everything and everyone around them for granted. They walk all over the weak picking up their shit without a second thought. That’s why we’re needed. It’s why we’re here to make them pay for treating others the way that she treated you…”

He slams one of his tentacles on the ground as he’s unable to shake his head.

He knows…it’s not right…It’s not just bad people who get sent to the Bad Place. It’s everyone. That isn’t fair. And his friends…even if they don’t ever want him or miss him…they don’t deserve…

“Join our team and maybe you can help fix where you think we went wrong. But you won’t be able to do shit with these bozos.” Bad Janet tells him; “They don’t even want you on their team, man. You’ll never be one of them. But you’re one of us. Always have been.”

She takes one of his quivering tentacles into her hand and holds it. Not crushing. Not to hurt. None of his flames or juices burn her.

She… _touches_ him. Like they’re one and the same.

“Shawn has a message for you. He says, it’s time to come home.”

Home?

He hoped for a home once. An office built next to his friends houses, the six of them all together, happy and safe in the Good Place. He always knew it was impossible for him to follow them, given what he is, but it had been fun to imagine. He had hoped to always be with them, to be allowed to visit and hang out whenever he could, to always be wanted. Maybe even, haha, loved!

Wow. He really did used to be such an idiot.

He almost curls his tentacle around her fingers. He’s so close to…

_“Stick with the programme, demon buddy.”_

He snatches it back and skitters away from her, hissing ancient curse words that he knows she can translate. She rolls her eyes and summons a saw into her hands again before she advances on him, her expression a mixture of boredom and disappointment.

Michael cringes. He shakes and steels himself, knowing there’s very little of him left to hold out. But he will try. He will always try.

*

They lost.

Eleanor can’t say she’s surprised, but it’s still devastating. She had been certain they would lose for most of the year and yet, every time she had come close to calling the Judge and asking for a reset, there had been that tiny niggle of improvement from one of the subjects. Just enough to keep them pushing on.

It had been rough. No, that was putting it lightly. Try the worst year of her life, beating out the one when her mom let a known drug dealer crash on their couch when she was six and who was always stealing her candy.

She should have known she had lost the second she decided to sacrifice the one friend who had been there for her at the beginning. The one who she truly needed throughout this stupid test.

When the last second on the timer counts down, the first thing Eleanor does is turn to Janet and ask her to let Michael out. Because even if he is Vicky then nothing she could do could hurt them now. And, imposter or not, she needed him. She missed him. Fuck, she missed him so much.

Janet had said that they should wait until after the Judge’s verdict. Just to be safe.

Eleanor could see her logic at the time. Why let Michael out just in time to see them fail? Now, she’s almost glad that he didn’t get to be around to see them lose. And when the Judge sends them all through the portal to the Bad Place, after showing them a fanvid she made of their year together and thanking them for ‘such a great ride’, Eleanor can’t help but be thankful that at least Michael is going to be safe from being retired in Janet’s void where Shawn can’t get to him.

He deserves that, at least, after what he’s been through. For them. Fuck, for nothing! She silently curses herself. She sent him away, locked him up, for nothing, damn it!

And her friends? And Chidi?

The latter hasn’t even been woken up yet. Her heart lurches that she’s not even allowed to see him one last time, frozen in stasis, before she’s carted off to her eternity of torture. It’s tough enough to see the devastation on Tahani and Jason’s faces as they’re marched back into the Bad Place HQ. She tells them to stay strong. This isn’t over yet.

It can’t be. This was just their one thousandth mistake and now they needed their one thousand and one next idea.

The crushing blow to her already fragile confidence comes when Shawn approaches them.

“Well. I would say that you put up a decent fight but, let’s be honest. That whole pathetic display was one pile of stinking camel faeces.” He tells them, all too smug.

“Hey, dude, there’s such thing as being a sore winner.” Jason complains.

“It’s time for this little charade to end. Janet, do you mind?”

Eleanor frowns as Janet, their Janet, steps forward and twirls around. There’s a flash of energy that passes over her body, switching her form, swapping out her purple dress for black leather and awfully large hair. She smirks as their hearts plummet.

“You…” Tahani gawps, her already large eyes growing wider.

“You were the one sabotaging us.” Eleanor says the words with horror on her tongue, repulsed at herself for not realising it. For not even considering it.

“Please. You guys were royally pooching it, I just gave everything a little nudge in our favour.” Bad Janet taunts; “Boy, we sure took a ride together, didn’t we. I think my favorite part was convincing Tahani to get those bangs! But also I loved seeing you try and wrack those teeny little brains to try and work out what was wrong, when the answer was cheerfully grinning at you the whole time. Dickwads.”

She high-fives Shawn beside her.

Eleanor has to hold herself back from scratching the skank’s eyes out. She knows she can’t take on a Janet. But she will damn well try if she needs to.

“Where’s real Janet?” Jason asks.

“Oh, I crushed her marble and poured it into my antimatter months ago. She’s long gone so I wouldn’t try holding out hope of her saving you again.” Shawn explains, coldly.

Tahani bursts into tears and clings to Jason, his own face creasing with grief and anger.

Eleanor’s fists clench at her sides, desperate to smash a demon’s teeth out.

“And Michael?” She’s almost afraid to ask.

“Oh, he’s right where you wanted him. Snug safely in my void for all these months.” Bad Janet steps closer to her; “Of course, I made it feel like a little big longer for him. Centuries, even. You know what I mean, don’t you Shellstrop, when I say what a fun toy he is to play with.”

Oh god. Oh god, no.

Eleanor has barely been able to live with herself for the past ten months knowing Michael had to be locked up. It took less than a day for her to feel as though she was drowning in regret. She had been angry at the time. It had been a tense situation and she’d been too quick to make a choice. She’d wanted nothing more than to let him out, to have him back at her side. Or even just to talk to him again, reassure him that she wasn’t mad at him, not really. She just had to make sure they were safe…Every time she had begged Janet to visit Michael in her void, she’d ‘reminded’ Eleanor that it wasn’t safe to have humans in there. That it was difficult enough for her to maintain the neighborhood, and her visiting Michael would be a risk to everything. Janet had assured her that Michael was comfortable. That he was putting his feet up and binge-watching Friends on Netflix in between reading his books, having the time of his life, enjoying the limitless freedom of her void. She had asked Janet to pass on messages to him and she had sent back vague, almost annoyingly carefree replies that Eleanor now realises were bullshit.

She had put so much trust in Janet to be who she was, when all the signs had been there, she’d just refused to look. And yet she had been so quick to throw out Michael’s trust and send him to…

Fuck. She wants to be sick.

“Let him out. Let him out, now.” Eleanor almost commands, consumed by guilt.

“Oh, so we can torture him here? Yeah, I plan to get right on that.” Bad Janet teases.

She doesn’t care if the same fate awaits them. She wants to see him. The only chance she has of finding some way to at least save herself and her friends is with him at her side. And she owes him a boat load of apologies, that’s even assuming he’s not too badly hurt from whatever she’s been doing to him.

“Enough chit chat. It’s time you all got to your respective torture zones that you should have gone to years ago.” Shawn waves them off; “Take them away.”

Guards appear to grab each one of them, marching them off in different directions.

Eleanor throws one last glare at the demon overlord and his trashy assistant, wishing upon them all the misery that this realm of theirs has to offer. This isn’t over.

She’s half way down a corridor with the large, bulky guard holding her wrist behind her back when she tries her first attempt.

“Hey, buddy. Ever thought about doing it with a human?” She dares to ask, turning on the Shellstrop charm.

“Yes.” He grunts.

Wow. Is there a chance that this Seduction Attempt might actually work?

“Not you though. I only like middle aged Serbian men.” He replies.

“Huh. That is a very specific kink, I gotta say.”

Eleanor tries her next idea. She kicks him in the shin and grabs the baton at his side, wacking his meaty head with it before grabbing his set of keys.

Then she runs like hell.

The whole place is like one large old-fashioned police precinct, with pale walls and jail cells and what look like locked portal doors. She tries to keep a mental note of where they are. She doesn’t care where they lead to, only that they might be potential exits for when she gets all four of them together again and they can find a way out. Anywhere is better than here.

She can hear voices shouting at her to stop. Alarms are ringing in every room. She’s surprised that she’s able to make it this far.

Eventually she rounds a corner to find herself crashing into someone’s chest.

“Get the fuck out…” Eleanor gasps as she gazes up at the face looking down at her.

Holy fucking shit!

“Michael?!”

Blue eyes blink at her in surprise from behind a pair of glasses.

“Eleanor…” He whispers, looking as shocked to have literally run into her as she is right now. As if he’s doubting that she’s even real.

She reaches up to touch him. He looks…not good.

Pale, bruised and thinner than she remembers. There’s stubble around his face and his glasses have a crack in them. His suit is ruffled and stained with a tear at the sleeve. Has he just managed to escape from a cell too? Did they put him there after Bad Janet already took him out of her void? So many questions run through her head and all she can do is throw her arms around his neck and let out a sob.

“Fuck, Michael! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She whimpers against him.

His hands move to her shoulders and pull her off, his jaw set.

“We don’t have time for this! They’re looking for you! We have to run!”

“I know, I just…” She knows that he’s right. And usually she would be the first to put action before emotions but, damn it, she honestly was afraid that she would never see him again. “You’re right. We gotta go.”

She can cling to him and beg for forgiveness once they’re somewhere the demon cops can’t get to them. Once they can figure out a plan to save the others.

He holds her hand tight and pulls her around a different corner, then into a cupboard, ordering her to stay silent as the guards walk past them. She tries to hold her breath, feeling her body pressed up against his, wanting to hug him again. Hug him and never let go. She can’t get over the thought of him being trapped in the void of a celestial demonic mainframe, tortured for more time than she can imagine, not having a clue how badly she’s been missing him. She wants him to know. She wants him to know _everything_.

They wait until the corridor is quiet before Michael tugs her out by the hand. He motions for her to stay quiet as they sneak along.

“Where are we going?” She whispers.

“Soul tracking station. We’ll be able to find out where the others have been sent and we can make a plan there. If I find somewhere safe for you to hold up, I’ll get them myself.”

“No, dude, where you go I go.” Eleanor promises; “Michael. They said that Janet…”

“I know.” He keeps looking forward.

Eleanor bites her lip; “Dude, I am so sorry-.” It’s heartbreaking for all of them, but Michael knew her the longest. And they had both spent this whole time locked away from their friends with no one to come and save them. Because none of them knew the truth. They were all too blind and stupid.

“…She wouldn’t want us to waste time mourning. She’d want us to press on.” He says and Eleanor can hear the pain in his words, as true as they are.

She wonders if it’s possible that Shawn was only bluffing. Is it worth it to hope anymore?

“Michael, I’m-.”

“Here.”

He takes her down one corridor and to a door at the end. He takes out one of his paperclips and unbends it, trying to pick one of the locks. He motions for her to wait.

“Keep an eye out for any guards. Hopefully I made them lose track.” He tells her, eyes focused on the door.

Eleanor presses herself back against the wall. She’s tempted to let her knees give way. To fall to the floor and let herself cry. She failed. She doomed all of humanity. And to make it worse, she failed her friends. She failed her soul mate. She failed…The one beside her, who she knew in her heart of hearts, had been as devoted to her as anyone else in her life. The one who she let down. Betrayed.

“…How long were you there for? Bad Janet said it was…longer than it seemed to us…?” She asks, quietly, looking at how tattered his jacket is.

He doesn’t answer for several seconds.

“…Long enough.”

She cringes, folding her arms and digging her fingers into her own skin.

“If I had any idea, Michael, I swear…”

“It doesn’t matter now. Forget it.”

“It fucking does matter, dude.” She tries not to raise her voice, her hand reaching for his arm; “I…It’s my fault you were stuck there. I said that I would trust you and I didn’t…And I had no good reason to. What reasons I came up with were bullshit and I only realised how they made no sense the day after and by then it was too late! Damn it, Michael…If you had been there with me all this time…We might not have lost. I needed you. I...I missed you so much, bud.”

He takes a breath and turns the paperclip again, making the lock click. He puts it back in his pocket and stands up.

“I guess we’ll never know what would have happened, Eleanor. What’s done is done.” He turns to her, his eyes heavy with sadness; “All that matters now is that I can make sure you all get to where you belong.”

He holds the door open and motions for her to go in. Ladies first.

She wants to quip that she’s no lady and he should know that by now. But she enters all the same. The room is far too dark and she can barely see what’s in front of her.

“Dude, can you find a light switch?”

“Certainly.”

There’s another click behind her and then the lights turn on, glaringly bright, almost blinding her. Eleanor tries to cover her face but her eyes already feel burned by the harsh whiteness.

What the fuck?!

She blinks and her vision slowly comes back into focus on the room around her.

She’s…home?

She glances around the living room. Pointed furniture. Clown photos. Too many colors. No stairs. It’s her living room. Her house. Except it's…twisted. The clown photos are sadder or angrier than before. There’s no windows. No bed. No cushions. Creepy circus music blares above her. She whirls around, ready to ask Michael what he thinks he’s playing at, only to be met with the sight of his amused smirk growing slowly across his haunted face. The one she hasn’t seen in many, many years.

Her feet move her back until she nearly trips over the coffee table.

“Michael…” She stares, blinking, as he advances on her like a hungry animal; “…What is this?!”

“This, Eleanor, is what I told you I was taking you to!” He says, holding his hands up in presentation; “This is where you belong.” He laughs and claps his hands on her shoulders, grinning with unhinged malice; “You’re home!”

*

“Look, dude, it’s a no brainer.” Bad Janet explains with another twist of the poker; “Either join us or don’t join us, remain stuck in here forever as the gross thing you are. Whichever you choose, your friends will end up being tortured by ‘Michael’. It will be you or one of Shawn’s cronies wearing your face. Surely you’d prefer taking care of your little pets yourself.”

He winces again as she pulls the poker out. He presses his hand over the wound and glares at her, just thankful to be allowed his human suit again on this rare occasion.

“I’ll never hurt them.” He promises, again.

“You were created to hurt them, jerk-ass!” She shouts at him, frustrated with how long he’s been able to keep this up; “It’s the only thing you were made for! The only way you will ever be free of this place is to take up Shawn’s offer. They’re doomed, either way. Why doom yourself with them when they never tried once to save you?”

Michael turns away, clutching at the burning holes in his side. It’s been so long now. He’s tried to stay strong. He’s tried to keep the faith but…

“You’re the one who has earned the right to hurt them. To make them suffer for putting you here.” She grabs at his face and suddenly wears Eleanor’s mask; “Make them hurt for not giving you the love and gratitude you deserved. For not wanting you.” She forces him to touch her face…Her face…and he has to wrench his hand back before it burns.

Damn it. Someone save him, please, before he loses the will to fight.

The will to believe.

“Just say yes, Mike.” Bad Janet tells him again, striding over, each step making him shudder back away from her.

“…You’ll have to retire me first.” He whispers.

They might not want him. They might not love him.

…But he will never stop loving them. Can never…

Fuck.

She grabs his hair; “Oh, buddy. You have no idea what plans we have for you before retirement.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

_Eleanor, please forgive me…_

*

This can’t be right. This cannot be happening.

With a snap of his fingers, a collar appears with a leash around her wrists and Michael grabs the other end, tugging her over to him. He gives it another yank and it tightens, shocking her slightly along with a painful squeeze. Even she can’t make a joke about BDSM at a time like this.

Michael’s eyes don’t even blink as she grins at her, like a little boy gifted with the present he asked for at Christmas.

“You’re not fooling me. I know about the suit, dingus.” She grits her teeth; “I know that this is what you always planned and I won’t fall for it. So you might as well erase my memory of finding out about it!”

“Oh and take away the memory of you failing too? Nah. I wouldn’t deprive you of that.” He tells her, moving his free hand up to stroke her cheek; “Not that they needed the suit in the end. After what you did to me, I thought they might as well have the real deal in their employment.”

“No. You would never do that to us.” She shakes her head; “You would never do that to me…”

He leans in close to her, baring his teeth.

“And I thought my friends would always trust me. I thought my friends would save me.” He whispers to her, a glint of insanity after years of solitary confinement and torture in his eyes; “Disappointment is a real bitch, isn’t it, Eleanor.”

He slaps her, keeping a hold of her wrist strap to stop her falling down, despite her buckling knees.

“But I had a long, long, loooong time to think about things in that dear little prison you sent me to.” He tells her; “I had plenty of time to think about what I am. What you know I am, what I’ve always been, and where I truly belong. I learned to accept what terrible humans like yourself truly deserve. I learned to accept that all that friendship and ethics crap was nothing but a load of useless garbage that means nothing because, in the end, we all end up unloved and alone. And none of it _fucking_ matters.”

Eleanor winces with every word he spits out, savagely, knowing that if this is Michael than he’s behaving as the monster she treated him as…But she refuses to accept that he would ever do that. That he would ever betray them because of her failures. She struggles to stand up straight.

She keeps her eyes fixed on his.

“You’re not Michael.”

He laughs. He slaps her again.

She gets up.

“You’re not Michael! You’re not Michael!” She repeats the mantra as she tries to edge further away from him.

"I guess there's nothing I can say or do to convince you that I'm really me. Isn't that _fun!"_

Please, no. No. Please, it can’t be…


	2. Corrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out I can't do ambiguous / open endings for angsty stuff. /shrug

It’s usually so dark in the maze. When the first ray of light pierces through, it’s like someone is holding a giant magnifying glass over him. It fucking burns.

Get it out. Get it the fuck away from him!

He has enough agony with the needles raking against he inside of his skull, he doesn’t need to add searing ultra bright light to his list of problems right now.

He’s afraid to look at it for too long. And when he does…

All he wants is to reach for it. To invite more in.

A vine wraps around his wrist and holds him back while another caresses beneath his chin. He should know better than to fight it. The anger buzzes through his essence and he feels it drain through the thorns injecting into him.

Whatever they are doing with him…He thinks he’d prefer not to know. Ignorance is the last type of bliss he’s allowed anymore.

*

She manages to wrench herself from his grip and edge around the table. Michael smiles, clicking his fingers, sending it flying up and hitting her in the face.

Motherfucker!

Eleanor collapses back and pushes the furniture off of her, already feeling her face start to swell.

She dares to glare up at the demon standing over her.

“You know how I can tell you’re not Michael?” She says, defiant; “Because he’s smarter than this! Physical torture? Slapping and throwing things around? How boring is that? He’s way more creative! This is just…basic!”

‘Michael’ starts to laugh again. Everything seems to be hilarious to him now.

“Why, you’re right, Eleanor. This is rather basic for me. You deserve better.” He steps closer, towering over her; “Only the best for my favorite human.”

He snaps his fingers.

The circus music suddenly turns into an ear-blasting saxophone solo that makes Eleanor clutch her hands to her ears. Fucking jazz, damn it! She dares to get to her feet and continues to stare down her captor with fire in her eyes.

“Jazz, really? C’mon, too easy!” She mocks him; “You may as well go back to slapping me like a fucking schoolgirl. Either way, you’re wasting your energy! Even when he turned good, Michael was ten times the demon you losers could ever hope to be.”

“Oh, I’m so flattered you think that, Eleanor.” He smirks back at her, “We’re going to enjoy our time here together, I assure you. I’ll make sure you are very, very pleased with your daily torture. And do keep giving me feedback because I have all of eternity to improve for you.”

He giggles again and snaps his fingers. A bolt of lightning falls down upon her and grazes down her side. She shrieks and jumps back, feeling the burn run down her arm.

“You’re quick! I like it! This can be an interesting game.”

He snaps and sends down another bolt. This time she’s ready for it as soon as his fingers twitch and she manages to avoid most of the blast, leaving one of the chairs to be obliterated.

Eleanor tries not to touch the welts forming on her right arm as she turns to the demon.

“Michael stopped finding ‘games’ like this fun a long time ago.” She says, “His favorite games now were Guess Who and Operation. And bowling and the claw machines. Not this!”

“Oooh, we could definitely play some bowling! Would you like to be the pins or the ball?” He says with a rather disturbing glimmer in his glassy eyes; “How about I roll you down and you have to knock over all your friends? It would be so nice to have the gang together and I sure did get very bored in that cell when Bad Janet wasn’t playing with me!”

The high-pitched, childlike tone of his voice sounds all too familiar, mixed with the creepy words he spews. It has to be another way to mess with her head. There’s no fucking way that her Michael would do this. Capture her. Beat and burn her.

“…Okay. If you’re really Michael then answer me some questions.” She straightens up, squaring her shoulders; “I had a lot of time to think while you were gone as well. I thought about what I should have said that night to test that you were really Michael.”

He rubs his hands together; “A test! Wonderful! Try me, go on! I’m surprised it only took your useless brain a whole year to work that out!”

It hadn’t. In fact, barely an hour after Bad Janet had zapped Michael into her void, Eleanor’s mind flooded with memories that had been held back by her impulsive anger and distrust moments before. Memories of moments she had shared with Michael, many of them in private, just the two of them, right back from when he had only just joined their team up until only that very morning when they’d had breakfast together before work. She thought about all the pep talks he’d given her, boosting her up when she was at her lowest, how often she’d cried on his shoulder when things were tough.

She thought about how he’d offered himself up on a silver platter for retirement to Shawn by handing her his senior management pin and saving her. And then he’d gone and sacrificed himself again by agreeing to be locked up, all alone for months, to reassure them. It was enough. Damn it, it should have been enough!

“What was the name of our team? When you joined us for the first time?” She asks.

“Team Cockroach, obviously.” He grins, “Though dung beetles was also an option.”

Fuck! Okay, maybe there was a chance that was a fluke, if this place had some sort of access to data of the old neighborhood. Or maybe Jason accidentally blabbed it at some point to Bad Janet?

“When we were on Earth, I was losing my mind over being in love with Chidi and kept blaming you for pulling the strings and saying it was all down to determinism. How did you snap me out of it?”

Michael laughs and snaps his fingers again.

A bucket of cold liquid suddenly pours onto Eleanor’s head, making her jump and scream a little. It’s a literal bucket load worse than before and she’s left shivering in soaking wet clothes and ice running down her hair.

“A waste of iced tea.” He clicks his tongue.

Eleanor grits her teeth.

Maybe they had access to what happened during their time on Earth? She needed to test him with something that was just…them. Not in the old neighborhood where Janet’s files might have been hacked. Not on Earth. Ugh, what other options did she…?

Wait.

Eleanor steps forward, her focus helping her to ignore the freezing cold settling on her skin.

“What problem did you solve when you sacrificed yourself for me?”

A shift comes over Michael’s expression which has been fixed to a crazy gleeful grin ever since he closed the door on Eleanor’s new prison. He blinks for the first time, his smile dropping, just for a moment. Eleanor frowns. Did she manage to stump them, for once? They probably wouldn’t keep a record of what happens in their own HQ, not at that moment, especially with no witnesses. She holds her breath as Michael’s eyes stare through her for a moment, before hardening again.

His smile returns and he steps slowly towards her, until he’s towering over her again. He shows his teeth and giggles once more. His hand moves up to ghost his knuckles over her cheek again.

“…I solved the trolley problem.” His laughter increases in its mania.

Oh god.

No, please, no, no, no!

Eleanor feels the cracks run through her heart as she looks up into his eyes. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the chink in the left lens of his glasses.

“…Michael?”

He rubs his thumb across her cheekbone.

“Hi, Eleanor.” He says as he did when meeting her for the first time, as he did every single eight hundred times he invited her into his office; “Have I convinced you yet?”

She keeps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want to admit it but…

Oh, fuck. Wanting it to not be true is, so far, the only thing she’s got. It’s not enough. If this demon who is torturing her, who is looking at her with pure, unhinged, twisted loathing, has all of Michael’s memories and his personality to an eerie perfection then…It all seems to be far too real. She never told anyone about what he said to her before he pushed her through the portal. Not even Chidi. Or Janet. It was their moment. The moment she knew how much he loved her.

How much she loved…

“Michael.” She gazes up at him; “Listen to me. If it’s really you in there then…I know that you don’t really want to do this! I know you. The real you.”

He chuckles and pinches her chin.

“No, you don’t, dummy.” He smirks at her; “You don’t know me at all, do you. Even if I am really me, you can never trust me…So how could you know me, Eleanor?”

She cringes as he throws her words back to her. If she could take those words back then she would, in a heartbeat, she would give anything!

Eleanor grabs at his wrist, trying to pull him off of her.

“It’s funny how, when it was my well-being and freedom on the line, you were so unsure. Now it’s yours, you’re willing to bet everything on being certain about who and what I am.” Michael says, leaning in to press his fingers to her ear; “But I already told you what I am. I told you what’s really inside of this suit. I told you what the real me was.”

“Yeah, I remember.” She pulls back to meet his eyes; “Some gigantic fiery squid, covered in teeth and juice? You really think I care about that?”

“You’d be crazy not to.”

“Then I guess I’m in good company, right?”

He stares at her, as if she’s caught him off guard again. There’s a flicker of tension across his face as he blinks again, squinting as if he’s just looked into the centre of the sun. His smile twitches. Does he want to laugh, sincerely, with her? He releases one hand from her to rub at his brow.

Is it possible that he’s…not as into this as he appeared to be? Could she be right?

She dares to put one hand over his that’s clasped over her wrist.

“Michael. Hear me.” She says, trying to keep her voice soft and clear; “We can leave here. We can go to the Judge and tell her how they sabotaged us. We can ask for a reset and then…we can go home. Whether it’s my house or your office, we can go back and everything will be okay, I-.”

He twists his hand, as if suddenly double jointed, bones clicking as he grabs her own arm and then spins her around. He clutches her to him, her back pressed against his front, his finger and thumb tilting her head back so it’s below his chin. He laughs again, one hand stroking down her hair, another wrapping around her middle.

All the times Eleanor had fleeting visions of Michael coming up behind her and holding her like this, thoughts she instantly batted out of her head as nonsense, they were nothing like this. She feels as though he could snap her neck right now if he wanted. Twist her entire torso the wrong way round.

“Oh, my Eleanor.” He croons, rubbing his cheek against her hair; “We’re already home, didn’t you hear me the first time? This is where we’ll stay now. Just me and you. No stupid Chidi taking you away from me. No annoying other humans or Janet distracting us. All I ever really wanted…was you.” He moves his head to take a sniff of her scalp; “…And now I have you. All to myself.”

She can’t help but cringe at his words, unsure if it’s what he says or the way he speaks them ever so softly against her ear. It takes a lot to not turn Eleanor on but this as far from attractive dirty talk as it can get for her.

Since when did Michael ever think of her like…?

“You told me you have no way of being attracted to humans.” She says, staying stiff in his embrace.

“I never did…Until you. Like I told you when we first met. You’re _special_ , Eleanor.”

Fuck. He did say those words to her. Lies placed on her like his hands that had stroked her shoulders outside her clown house before she’d even laid eyes on it.

He moves his hand up to stroke the underside of her jaw.

“Don’t you remember attempt six hundred and three? We had a little agreement, you and I.”

He snaps his fingers and Eleanor gasps, feeling the sudden waft of air around her legs and arms. She looks down to see that her clothes have changed. Her jeans and sweater have been swapped out for a short red dress with matching heels. One of her favorite outfits. The dress she had worn on her birthday two years ago. The dress she had also worn when…

Oh crap. It takes some shuffling through her mind but she does remember. One of her own little plans to try to get one up over Michael. Try to tame the devil in charge of their suffering.

His hand caress down her side and over her hip.

“You wanted to make a little deal with me, remember? I let you and your friends be free of my neighborhood…and in return…I get…” He breathes against her neck; “You.”

Eleanor grits her teeth. Had she known that would come back to bite her this far down the line.

“You refused. You snapped you fingers and-.”

“I never said I refused. I just didn’t say anything at all. Or maybe I did and you happened to be in stasis.” He chuckles, twirling her around and catching her again by the hips, bringing her close; “Whatever the case, I did my part of the bargain. I got you all out of my ‘Good Place’. So. Isn’t it about time you paid up?”

His hand moves down to the small of her back. Eleanor takes a breath and dares to look up. She can hear the two sides of her brain warring with each other. One side wants to play along. This is Michael, after all. It’s not like she hasn’t had the hots for the demon since the authoritative Sam the Eagle look-alike first called her into his office. It’s not like her brain hasn’t had many sneaky, naughty thoughts about…that. There could be worse things he could do to her here.

And the other, the rational and lame side, knows to resist. Chidi is still out there, maybe, if he’s been awake or not. It would be cheating on him and, not to mention, Michael is clearly off his fucking rocker right about now. That’s if she allows herself to believe that it is really him. How else could they know that stuff?

She steels herself, deciding on the middle path, jutting her chin out and looking him square in the eyes.

“Go on then.” Eleanor whispers, turning on her most sultry tone; “Take it.”

He stares at her some more, his breathing heavy, eyes piercing into hers. His fingers grip a little tighter around her arms and she tries not to wince at the pain.

His mouth inches closer to her face, close enough to have a taste…if he wanted.

“What’re you waiting for, dude?” She asks him; “You’ve gone to the dark side now, right? You can do anything you want to me and there’s no fallout for you. Go ahead, Mikey. Do what they want you to do. Be the monster they want you to be.”

Michael doesn’t respond. His bottom lip starts to quiver, his eyes darting down, over her. He looks as though he’s trying to work out which part to touch first. As if grabbing the wrong thing to start will mess everything up or shock him in return. With one simple call of his bluff, Eleanor has managed to turn him back into a nervous schoolboy who knows next to nothing about women.

She can see the loss in his eyes. The fear creasing around his face.

It lights a spark of hope inside her chest. He’s there. She’s sure of it.

“It’s not easy, is it?” She says, treading carefully; “Because that’s not you. You’re not a monster, Michael. You’ve not been a monster for a very, _very_ long time.”

He starts to laugh again. This time it comes with drops of tears in the corners of his eyes.

“…She kept me. Eleanor.” He tells her, his words broken with shame; “…She kept me as a monster…in her void…Took away my suit. T-this is the longest I’ve worn my skin in…over a hundred years?”

Damn it, that’s how long she kept him in there? And Eleanor thought her ten months without Michael had been painful enough. At least she’d had the stress of the experiment, day to day, keeping her busy. It was only really the nights that had stretched out the longest. Sleepless nights of staring out the window and wishing to see Michael appear, to somehow be let out without her knowing, to walk back into her life so she can finally give him the apology he deserved.

She curses herself for not being firmer with who she thought was Janet. Why had she been so quick to take her word? It was clear to see, with hindsight, how different she had been acting. How much colder and aggressive, spewing counter productive ideas and passive aggressive criticism. She’d even gone as far as to convince Eleanor that Michael didn’t want to come out of the void, that he was too upset over what had happened and thought it best he stay away. It hadn’t helped that Eleanor was as stubborn as a fire squid.

“It doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy. It doesn’t mean you have to be…one of them.” She tells him.

His smirk returns, a glint of anger this time; “I am one of them. They accept me. They have use for me. They won’t just lock me away or get rid of me.”

“I didn’t want to-.”

“Shut up!” He snaps his fingers again.

Eleanor whimpers as her mouth seems to clamp shut. She reaches her hand up to find that her lips are gone. There’s just a seal of unbroken skin where her mouth used to be. She can feel her tongue and her teeth inside but there is no longer an orifice. Her scream is muffled.

“Oh, shh, shh now.” Michael cradles her face, running his thumb beneath her eyes; “It’s your turn to listen to me, Eleanor. It took me a while to figure it out too. Took me a long time to learn that fighting _this_ is pointless! Fighting who I really am, fighting where I belong, how things should be. You need to stop fighting too. You belong here, with me, because you’re Bad, like me.”

One of his hands move to caress the back of her head. He tilts his head to gaze at her, almost tenderly. It makes her want to shrink back into the walls.

“You’ll be happier once you accept it. I promise.” He whispers; “I accepted it and all that heartache you gave me just floated away. And yours will too. You’ll forget about Chidi and the others. It will jut be the two of us. We’ll be here forever, you and I.”

He takes her hand and spins her under his arm. She feels frozen, her missing mouth still freaking her out to the point of paralysis, as he moves her like a doll.

“You see, I still want you.” He tells her, bringing her close to brush his lips against her ear; “Even though you broke my heart.”

He snaps his fingers again. Eleanor lets out a gasp, her mouth reforming, inhaling as if she might never get to breathe again.

“Michael! You need to snap out of this!” She raises her voice, close to losing her patience now.

“I already sorted out my problems, Eleanor. They helped me. Bad Janet made me see-.”

“She fucking brainwashed you, dude! Can’t you see that?” Well, obviously not, that’s the whole point of brainwashing, Eleanor tells herself once the words are out, “You’ve had nothing but her words in your head for decades! I get it, okay? I get why you’re doing this. But you don’t have to!”

She reaches to place her palms on his cheeks.

“Look into my eyes.” Eleanor tells him; “Look at me, Michael. I know I wasn’t there for you before but I’m here now. And, believe me, I wanted to be there for you! I wanted to free you.”

His eyes are flickering between contempt and loss and back again. Over and over.

“And I know you can’t believe me, not after whatever she’s poisoned your brain with.” She continues, reaching for that tiny shred; “I can’t imagine what she’s put you through, bud. But it’s over. Let me help you, please.”

“…Why would you want to…?” He asks, quietly, frowning at her.

“Because I did it already and I know it works! I helped you change once before, remember, and you helped me change! That’s what friends do, Michael, they help each other be better versions of themselves. They don’t torture or control or hurt, not on purpose. I want to save us both. All she wanted to do was use you-.”

He gives her a shove and she falls onto the wooden slatted sofa which once took several pillows to ever make even the slightest bit comfortable.

“And you didn’t use me? You didn’t let me boost you up and support you for all those months and then as soon as I needed you, you-.” He sneers down at her.

Eleanor rolls off and gets back to her feet, passion numbing the pain with every attack he dishes out.

“I FUCKED UP, OKAY!”

He almost looks impressed by her tenacity. She wouldn’t want to disappoint him at this point by agreeing to stay down. To give up and let him win this.

“I admit it! I failed you, Michael. I was a shitty friend and I let you down but that’s what friends sometimes do, it’s not always fucking perfect!” She growls at him; “It was one mistake, one _stupid_ night, and I have been regretting it for months! Do you really think I’d ever want this for you? Do you think I’d ever want you to get hurt?”

His fingers twitch at his sides. He can’t seem to decide on what to do to her next, given how he seems to want to snap again, yet doesn’t make it.

He chuckles, sadly; “…I don’t think you gave a shit what happened to me that night.”

“Dude, you were the one who asked Janet if she could fix her gun to blow yourself up and when that wasn’t an option, you agreed to go into her void! I wanted to reset, remember? I wanted the Judge to settle that whole stinking mess that night but you chose to sacrifice yourself!” Eleanor continues to lay it out, “And yes, I was wrong to agree to let you do that, I should have fought harder, I…I should never have let it go that far to begin with…I should have trusted you. I didn’t. There’s no excuse for that.”

She meets his eyes.

“But I’m trusting you now.”

His face winces. Michael looks at her as if she’s the one who has lost her mind.

“I’m trusting that you’re still our Michael. Our good, kind, dorky, sweet, brave and clever Michael who would never do anything to hurt his friends, who would never betray them.” She pleads, holding her hands out, “Even if you’re pissed off at me, I don’t care…Think about the others. Jason. Tahani. Chidi.”

She watches the flinching of his brow and cheeks with every name she utters. He’s not lost, she’s sure of it. He’s in there. Somewhere.

“You remember the promise you made Jason and Tahani before you left? They’re still waiting on that slumber party, dude.” Eleanor says, her voice breaking a little; “I know I was a cold ass bitch that night but you saw how much they were gonna miss you. And they did. They kept asking Janet to see you as much as I did.”

He stumbles back, gasping out a sob. The right side of his body is shaking and he clutches at his head again. His eyes close as his fingers curl into his scalp.

“She never told you that, did she.” Eleanor takes a step closer; “Michael…You were always _wanted_!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

A blast of pain strikes her face before everything goes dark.

*

The thorns that had been a maze before are now tangled all around him. Every time he tries to bat one away, to wrestle it off from around his limbs, a new one seems to take its place. Fuck, there’s so many, and each one is like razor wire digging into his tender human skin-suit.

He’s used to the voices. Her voice.

It’s been used to torment him for so long now. He’d almost believed that he’d grown immune to it. All the insults and cruel mockery began to get tiresome, sometimes too over the top. He had stopped being sensitive to it long ago. He’d had more than enough time to accept what Eleanor really thought of him. How, whatever bond they might have been developing before, had been shattered the night he was sent here ‘for the greater good’. He’d lost her trust and there was nothing he could do to get it back. And now she knew what was really beneath his handsome face and clearly wasn’t impressed, well, that wasn’t much of a surprise.

What started to hit a sore nerve again was this new trick they were using. Making him believe that she was here. That she was trying to talk to him, to save him, when he knows by now how impossible that is.

_“Fuck, Michael! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”_

That couldn’t be her.

_“I missed you so much, bud.”_

No way in any Bad Place could that be her.

Not after all this time.

And yet they kept pushing her voice, then her face, flashing in and out of his eyesight as he tried to battle his way through the thorn bush which kept growing thicker and angrier by the second. Every time a thorn came too close, wearing that face of hers, he’d slap it away, refusing to be tricked by it.

His head hurts so much. There used to feel as though there was so much room to think in there, as if he had his own void. Now it’s stuffed to burst with noise and aching.

Just when he thinks he’s gotten free, he sees her before him.

Reaching her hand out.

_“I know you don’t really want to do this…”_

Do what?

All he wants is to rest but she won’t let him!

It has to be her. It has to be Bad Janet fucking with his mind like she has done for centuries. He tries to speak, to talk back, but the thorns then try to shove themselves down his throat until he chokes. He bites them apart and struggles forward. He wants to hit the phantom again. The fake vision of his former friend. Get it out of his sight.

And then. He sees a shimmer of yellow around her. He smells strawberries from her hair and tastes her regret on his tongue. The first thing he’s sensed in that dimension in centuries.

Bad Janet can pull a lot of tricks. But she can’t give holograms auras.

…Eleanor?

Is it possible?

He feels the thorns retreat a little as he clings to the first tiny ray of hope that’s fallen upon him in so long. Is she really there? There’s no way that’s possible. How long has it been? Is the experiment still ongoing? She can’t have been brought into the void. Whatever part of his brain knows the answer is being currently rooted around in by the large, celestial hand that’s swirling her fingers through his thoughts, playing ventriloquist.

He vaguely sees her react to his words that should be nothing more than unspoken emotions and buried memories he didn’t wish for her to access. One moment, Eleanor is standing before him in a pink sweater and green pants, the next she’s in a dress…Fuck. That dress. His favorite on her. The one he found her in when he came down to Earth to visit her because he couldn’t bear to stay away, couldn’t stand the idea of her being alone on her special day. The dress she had worn to try to win his heart in order to make him all hers, to want to obey her every whim, to save her soul. It had been a delayed reaction…but it had worked in the end.

Oh no. He cringes at the thought that those memories are being access. Those feelings which he never wanted revealed, that he wanted to be retired with, are now being shown publicly like a trashy tabloid. He screams into his own mind at the thought of doing…something he could never take back…

…Something he would never do if he still had control of his own damn body.

_“I’m trusting you now.”_

He whimpers and it might have come out, he’s not sure. His conflict is doing something to match the force that’s sat in the captain’s seat, he knows that much.

She trusts him now?

She…believes in him. She believes that he won’t hurt her. She believes that he’s still…

He wanted to prove himself to her before. He had hoped staying in his cell in Janet’s void like a good little demon for all those months would be what was needed to win back her trust. Now he had it again and it was almost enough to make him forget all the anguish he had gone through because of how she had wanted him to go away in the first place.

He does his best. He focuses on mentally being there, with her, in his own damn suit. When she mentions their other friends, his strength rises a little more. Oh, Jason! Tahani! Even that pesky nerd who drove him crazy half the time, fuck, the idea of Chidi suffering…It’s all unbearable. He can’t just lay back and let it-

_“You were always wanted.”_

He feels the self-loathing part of his brain gladly open the door so that the entity can return to take the wheel. The last image he sees is Eleanor’s eyes widening with terror before the thorns regrow around his head again. And she’s gone.

No! Not anymore!

If she’s really here, if there is a chance to she and the others need him, then by fuck he’s going to fight this! For once he wishes his human suit had as much access to fire and teeth as his tentacles as he tries to wrench them from him again.

He can hear Bad Janet laughing in his ear.

He growls and tears one of the thorns in two. He’ll do anything to stop that laughter.

“What do you think you’re doing? This isn’t your body anymore, smeg-pants.” That obnoxious tone sneers from nowhere; “I’m in the driver’s seat. And I’m having a blast doing all these hit-and-runs, especially on your little baby doll here. She’s shattering like china. It’s great!”

“You leave her alone! You leave her the fuck-!”

Michael stumbles through the maze.

His eyes open.

He blinks to look at his surroundings. Immediately he recognises that metallic scent of blood mixed with the putrid sulphur that tells him he’s home sweet home. Back in the Bad Place. This room, this warped mirror image of the house he built for Eleanor, is clearly a lazily designed cell. Which must mean that it’s occupant is…

Michael turns around. Oh no. Please, Judge or Jeff or whoever, no.

He stumbles over to the curled up figure in the corner of the room. Her dress is torn at the waist and her exposed skin is coated in cuts and rapidly forming purple marks. Her lip is bleeding and she looks as though she’s gone toe-to-toe with a bear. Or, more likely, a fire squid gone insane. She’s wheezing terribly and Michael can already see, behind her arms, where she’s been punched in the ribs to the point two of them are cracked and pressing against her lungs.

He lets out a whimper as a tear runs down his cheek.

“Eleanor…?” His quivering hand reach out, ghosting around her; “Oh Eleanor, what have I done? What the fuck did they make me do to you?!”

It wasn’t him. He needs her to know that he would never…

“It’s okay.”

He blinks as the words leave her split lips. She turns and smiles at him, one hand reaching out to brush against his cheek.

“I know, dude. I know it wasn’t you.” She whispers through the pain; “…Too bad whoever is controlling you knows how to throw a better swing than you do.”

He lets out another sob. She has this much faith in him? This is a leap too far.

When she doesn’t flinch away, Michael shuffles forward and scoops her up into his arms. He carries her over to the sliding clown door and opens it with a snap of his fingers before laying her down on her bed, having to snap the duvet set onto it as, clearly, they weren’t planning on having any idea of comfort for her here.

He lays her down on the soft surface, taking a seat beside her and grabbing her hand.

She smiles, weakly, up at him.

“Hey there, buddy.”

“Eleanor.” He touches her cheek, fingers moving away when he sees where his knuckles have clearly touched her moments before; “How are you so sure that I’m…?”

“You really think I don’t know those eyes of yours? No one can fake that amount of anxiety.”

She makes him laugh, more tears spilling.

He snaps his fingers and tries to take away each wound, one by one. It doesn’t seem to work.

“What the fuck?!” He grits his teeth, continuing to snap until Eleanor holds his wrist.

“I don’t think they allow healing here, dude.” She can easily work out what he’s trying.

He bites his lip. The only thing he can do to her here is hurt her?

“This…This was what they said they would do.” He tells her, voice breaking through his tears; “That you would be tortured by me. I just never imagined they would do…this!”

Eleanor groans as she sits up and faces him. Her hands reach out to take his.

“What did they do to you, Michael?”

That’s just it. He isn’t even fully sure himself. One moment he was trapped in Bad Janet’s void, naked in his true demon form, and the next he’s being put back into his suit, except it’s a lot more crowded than before. There’s someone else joining him. The same voice that has been his only friend and his jailer for centuries, her energy suppressing his essence, her claws digging into his mind and trapping him in that mental thorn maze.

He gingerly takes Eleanor’s hands in front of him, unable to look at her, feeling weak and sheepish.

“There’s…something inside me, Eleanor. I can’t…I dunno how to control it…I don’t know if it will come back….” He admits, afraid; “You need to leave. I can try to get you out and….m-maybe you can go back to the Judge.”

“I won’t leave you!”

“You have to! You know, as well as I do, this mission to save humanity is the most important thing. Compared to what that and saving our friends, you know I’m not important!”

Her expression fractures, just for a moment, before it hardens again with her resolve.

“Yes! Yes, you fucking are, Michael!” Eleanor puts her palms to his face again; “You’re important to me! You always were! Damn it, that’s why I got so mad that night! Because you mean so much to me! The thought of you lying to me, not trusting to be there for you, of you not being there…It was too much. You were all that held me together after I lost Chidi. I’ll always need you. We lost because I lost you!”

They lost? Oh, of course, that’s why she’s here. He closes his eyes and feels the weight of that shame. It’s his to own up to as much as hers.

“I should never have agreed to leave you.” He whispers.

“I should never have made you feel like you had to go.” She sniffs and struggles to smile, blood still trickling from her lip. He dares to wipe some of it away, wishing he could seal it up. Erase the pain; “I’m sorry. Michael, I’m so sorry.”

He can feel the sincerity pouring out of her newly cracked spring. He lets it quench his centuries long thirst as he takes a moment to accept that this isn’t one of his wishes he’s been envisioning to cope with his torture. She is right here. She is sorry. She…never wanted him to go. Not really.

“Oh, Eleanor…”

She sniffs and shuffles close again, pressing his head close to hers, brows touching. Any closer and he thinks he could hear the thoughts in her brain. Something close is singing.

The scent of her blood is inhaled through his nose.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. I was too weak to stop them-.”

“Shh, dummy.” She smiles, her hand moving to stroke the back of his head; “You did stop her. I don’t care how long it took, you did it. They’ve always underestimated you, huh.”

“…Just like we underestimate you humans.”

Her eyes brighten as they look into his. He never thought he’d get to have those eyes look at him with so much compassion and warmth again. It all feels too much like a long lost dream come true.

_Because it is, dip shit!_

Michael lets out a groan as the thorns return to attack his skull. He clutches and reels back, hurling himself back against the headboard as those fingers start to dig in again.

The human beside him darts forward.

“Michael!” She calls out, throwing her arms around him, “It’s okay! I’ve got you! Whatever she’s doing to you, just fight it! I know you can! You just have to-.”

She gasps as his fingers straighten, stabbing one into her lower back, turning the temperature up on her intestines, making her stomach twist in ways it shouldn’t.

He tries hard not to. Oh, fuck, all he can do is feel his body work as his mind screams silently.

He laughs instead.

“Oh, what a heartfelt reunion! Don’t you think I pulled it off?” He’s forced to snicker against her ear; “Did I really seem like I cared about you? That I accepted that weak ass apology of yours?”

He did! He does care! He did accept it, fuck, please Eleanor!

She pushes him back, her eyes aflame as she scowls at him. Except it’s not at him…

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit, you skank?! Let him go!” Eleanor bares her teeth, moving her hands up to his shoulders.

He manages to regain some control, the insane level of faith in her eyes enough to give him that boost.

“E…Eleanor…” He whimpers, trying to pull his hands back, away from her.

With some effort, he takes his body from the bed and shuffles backwards, away from her.

“…Eleanor, I’m scared.”

Her face softens again and she gets up, keeping her hands held out, waiting and ready.

“It’s gonna be okay, Michael. I’m gonna fix this.” She tells him; “I’m gonna sort this out and we’re all gonna be safe and home soon…And we can finally have that slumber party. How does that sound?”

He manages a laugh, a few tears leaking as he continues to focus on keeping this body as his.

He throws her a smile; “…I do love you guys so much.”

“Yeah. I know, buddy.” She grins and edges closer; “We love you too. And we’re all getting out of here. Together.”

He sniffs, his knees buckling.

“…Promise me?”

“I promise you, Michael!” She says without hesitation.

_She’s lying. She’ll break that promise, just like she did the last one._

No, she wont.

_You. Can’t. Trust. Humans._

Then how can he blame her for not trusting a demon? Just for a second.

She trusts him now. She wants him.

They’re finally going home.

Michael reaches forward and takes her hand, pulling her with him towards the door. He can feel the vibrations of her adrenaline in her fingertips, probably numbing her to the pain of the wounds he gave her moments ago. He snaps his fingers, summoning all the magic he’s allowed to wield in this poor demon’s excuse for a torture chamber, opening the door.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He tells her, squeezing her hand in his.

“Right beside you, bud.”

Always right there. Always.

*

It seems all too easy for them to make it back to the portals, right in the middle of headquarters. At least, much like their last visit, it seems to have been emptied out. Maybe all demons at their desks were ordered to help search once the alarm started going off when someone found out that Michael and Eleanor had left their cell.

After all, it hadn’t just been hers. It was for Michael’s torture as much as her own, to be forced to inflict untold pain and humiliation on her for centuries. Forced the hurt the one he…loved most.

Eleanor hopes there will be time, someday, for her to process all of these feelings and new information. Right now, however, the only thing that matters is somehow getting back to the Judge and to be able to plead her case one last time.

“I wish we had time to save the others. What they must be doing to Chidi, Jason and Taha-.”

“Don’t think about it, dude.” She hates the words that come out next. But, much like the night where she had to be the one making the tough decisions with Michael’s identity a risk, this is another example; “The Judge is our best shot to save them, not searching blindly for wherever their cells are.”

The portal is open but Eleanor knows as much as Michael that it will be useless jumping in without a senior management pin. She tries rooting through all the desks, praying to be lucky enough to come across one.

“It’s unlikely anyone who worked here would have a pin.” Regardless, he searches through the coats on the hanger.

She looks over to him, seeing how his posture is slightly hunched, his face wincing.

“How is your head doing? Are you…?” Is Bad Janet about to try to take the reins again.

He shakes his head; “Mother of all migraines but no worse than what I’ve felt whenever Jason asks one of his inane questions. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me, Eleanor.”

“No chance of that stopping, bud.” She smiles.

He gives her a brief smile across the wooden barred barrier between them.

“This is no time to be getting all goopy.” He quips back.

Oh that dick. She tries to hide the blushing in her cheeks as she goes back to rummaging. She hopes that trying to escape from this place the same way doesn’t become some ritual they have to repeat every few years. It only feels like yesterday they were here before. And why is it she always has to make an escape wearing some sort of party dress? Thank fuck she’s a pro at running in heels after all the practice she’s had.

It’s pretty heavy de ja vue when she hears the voice call above.

“There they are! Surround them!”

Shawn stands at the top balcony while his goons swarm down the stairs. Eleanor rushes back over to the Michael and grips his hand. The two of them standing with the portal behind them, demons with spiked batons surrounding them on all three sides.

Her breathing quickens as she glances up at him.

“What should we do? Chance it?” She asks him. What happens if you go through without a pin? Is there any possibility that they will somehow find their way to the Judge’s chambers?

Michael shakes his head.

“You’ll be flying through the void for eternity with no escape.” He moves close to her, trying to shield her, having difficulty when Eleanor is already trying to shield _him_.

“That kinda sounds more tempting than whatever they have in store for us.”

On the other hand, they’ve at least had some track record with managing to escape from the Bad Place before. Escaping from infinite interdimensional voids? Not so much.

The guards all pause three metres either side of them on Shawn’s command, as the man himself casually makes his way down the stairs.

Eleanor feels Michael’s breathing sync with her own, the both of them inhaling deeply.

“I’ve never said it before, but…Eleanor,” He says, turning his head towards her; “…I’m so glad I chose you to torture.”

That shouldn’t be nearly as heart-warming as it is. Eleanor looks at him.

“Me too, buddy.”

Their hands squeeze each other tight, ready for whatever comes next.

Shawn gives a hand signal for his demons to keep their weapons ready in case their fugitives decide to do anything rash. He smirks at them and shakes his head.

“Ah, if isn’t Thelma and Louise. I don’t care who is who, you can decide that.” He comments, “The outcome will be the same. You’re welcome to turn around and hurl yourselves into that portal. Or you can stop fighting destiny and come with us. And let me get some Kevin Spacey damn peace at last!”

“We’re not giving up, Shawn.” Michael tells him, fiercely; “Accept it!”

“I should accept it?! You lost. Fair and square!”

“You sabotaged us! You kidnapped and tortured Michael and Janet, how was that fair and square?!” Eleanor argues back.

The head demon shrugs; “I don’t give a crap. We’re demons; that is fair for us!”

“Well it won’t be when the Judge finds out. She’s gonna be using your head as a popcorn bowl while she’s watching her next show.” Eleanor grins; “And your sick little torture you had planned won’t work on us anyway. Michael already broke free of whatever little hypnosis shit you did to him so he’s not yours to control anymore!”

“That’s right.” Her buddy confirms.

“Michael, get over here.” Shawn orders, vaguely, with a flick of his head.

“Yes, Sir.”

Eleanor’s jaw drops as he pulls his hand away from hers and walks over to Shawn’s side. There’s the briefest twinge of betrayal in her heart before she notices the way he moves, his back far too straight, fingers twitching at his sides. As if his spine were being held up by strings.

She grits her teeth.

“What the fuck did you to him?! Let him go!” She shouts, her blood running cold when she sees the look of horror on his face as he’s forced to obey.

Shawn puts his hand to the back of Michael’s neck.

“Are you really curious to know? We installed a Bad Janet’s data inside his suit. It loses most of her powers but can take control of the human body, and makes the host as obedient as any primitive Janet is. Not very nice for the demon whose essence is squished inside though.” He pinches the back of Michael’s neck, thrilling at the sight of him squirming; “The demon should not be able to regain control. Typical, Michael. Even as a puppet, you’re a failure. Or maybe Bad Janet let you free just long enough for you to fail in escaping instead?”

Michael’s eyes widen with shame as he looks over at Eleanor. She’d already thought that their escape was far too easy. It had been yet another mind fuck. Give Michael back enough of his freedom to enjoy stealing it again. Give Eleanor back Michael long enough for her heart to shred when she lost him once more. She feels the anger course through her body as her fists clench.

No more. They don’t get to do this to them anymore! They don’t do it to anyone ever.

“You’ve fought her before, Michael, you can do it again. Fight!” Eleanor encourages.

“I don’t need to fight anymore, Eleanor. I’m right where I should be.” His voice is stolen to speak the words that clearly hurt him to utter, going by the wincing on his face; “Just give up. Gottle o’ geer. Gottle o’ geer. Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“No, that’s hilarious, Bad Janet.” Shawn chuckles at his rival’s degradation.

“Ugh, he’s so loud. Crying like a pathetic baby in this head.” ‘Michael’ grimaces, “What a whimp. I thought I’d got him to shut up. That must be your fault, Shellstrop. This was just how he sounded when I took over him the first time. He was so afraid when I took him, when I crushed him under my heel. He went silent while crying. Screaming. Begging for it, even if it meant selling you all out-.”

“You’re full of shit. He’s stronger and braver than all of you bozos combined.” Eleanor glowers, wishing she had her own Janet beside her right now. What she wouldn’t give to see her good friend kick some demon ass again, even more awesome than before.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to dish some serious whoopass out herself.

“Forget about your pet demon then. We could talk about your other friends. About your Goody Two Shoe Janet who wailed when we shrunk her down and grinded her into dust. Or how your other friends are screaming right now as their fingernails are torn out. How your four-eyed lover is currently being forced to choose between having his tongue made into a bookmark or.."

The demon guards edge closer. She’s torn between stepping backwards or forwards. She would rather take her chances with the endless void than staying here. But this place has Michael. It has her friends. The thought of abandoning them all makes her freeze in place. This is what a true life or death decision looks like, Chidi, she thinks, even if she is already dead.

She sees a smirk form over Michael’s face. For a moment she’s afraid that it’s Bad Janet’s control taking further effect, corrupting him completely, before she spots the slightest, quickest wink.

“I think you’re better off taking a leap into that void, loser.” He speaks with Bad Janet’s snide tone; “When I get my hands on you, that little clown cell is going to be painted with shades of Shellstrop up the walls and ceiling. And then…I’m gonna break you like faith in democracy. Or perhaps you would like that after all? Gotta be more fun than what your dweeby philosopher can do to you.”

He takes a step forward and beckons her closer. Eleanor takes a breath. She spots the words. His code for her. This time she will live up to her promise.

She shudders as she steps closer, cringing, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“…Michael. Please.” She tries to whimper; “There must be a part of you in there. A part of you that remembers.”

The words might be put on. But the sadness is real. Sadness for what they both know has to happen next. That there’s a chance she might have to break one promise to keep this one.

He grins at her. It somehow manages to both break and warm her heart at the same time.

“More than they know.” He whispers to her.

There is no other way onward for them. Except this.

He turns and snatches Shawn’s management badge off of his lapel and throws it in her direction. She catches it and spins on her heel, running towards the portal again. There’s no time for one last look into his eyes.

She hears an enraged curse ring out behind her as Shawn fully realises what’s happened.

“STOP HER YOU IDIOTS!” His shouts echo through the chamber.

In the corner of her eyes, she sees the demons take a moment to react, beginning to dart forward by the time she’s already at the threshold.

_Run, damn it Shellstrop, run! For them, for Michael, RUN!_

Eleanor hears a thump beside her, followed by a painful groan, and hopes that it’s Michael landing a punch or worse on his bosses’ stupid face. She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t waste this one and only chance that he’s given her.

She fumbles to pin the badge on her dress as she leaps forward, feeling it almost slip through her fingers.

_Fucking stick on, you asshole!_

This time she can’t beg for him to stop. This time she can’t reach to take him with her. She can’t look back. If she dares to look back then they really have lost.

There is only the way forward.


	3. Free

He’s absolutely fuming! Of all the no good stunts to pull!

He blames himself. How could he not tell that Linda wasn’t a real human from the moment he laid eyes on her? She smelled like an old lady, all stale biscuits and too much tea. Her aura was almost blank but he put that down to her personality being as vibrant as a whiteboard. They must be getting more advanced with building these suits. Michael shudders as he thinks of the replica they constructed of his own, teeth clenching with fear and rage.

He’s glad to see that Janet isn’t being the least bit gentle with handling Chris as they walk to the train platform with Eleanor. Even though Janet got rid of the swelling, Michael can still spot the indent and stinging around her nose and under her eye from where he thumped her. He doesn’t ask if she’s okay, knowing she’s wound up enough and not wanting to push anymore. He wants to beat ten shades of shirt out of the demon for laying a finger on her. But, as Janet wisely pointed out, the best idea was to get the sneak as far away and back to the hell pit he crawled out of.

The large, black steel train is already rolling in by the time they get there. The cow-catcher slams through a pile of garbage cans left on the tracks, creating further mess for them to clean up later.

“Did you put those trashcans there just so you could crash into them?” Eleanor asks as the conductor steps off.

Bad Janet doesn’t glance up from her phone as she saunters out the front car. Michael always wondered who exactly Bad Janets are constantly communicating to on those devices, considering no other being uses cell phones in the afterlife. Do they share mean gossip with other Bad Janets? Are they leaving trollish comments on YouTube? Or is it just a prop to annoy the fork out of them?

Most likely the last one.

“That wasn’t my fault, I was texting.” She drawls, eyes still on what looks to be a black screen in her hand until she clicks her tongue; “Okay, let him go, dung buckets.”

“Nice try. We’ll put him on the train and handcuff him to a bench.” He says as Janet frog marches the faker on in front of him; “Yeah, forgive us if we don’t trust you not to cheat-.”

There’s a sudden shift in the energy beside him, barely noticeable if not for the fact that it makes Eleanor stumble forward. He puts out a hand to touch her wrist, steadying her.

He frowns as he notices how drastically her aura has changed in a matter of seconds. That shouldn’t be possible. Where little red bubbles of anger had been gathering around her before, multiplying ever since they had left their office, had now all but vanished, replaced with buzzing orange anxiety. Panic.

“Woah there. You okay?” He watches her blink rapidly and stare at her surroundings, as if she’s only just joined them on this level of reality.

Did she fall asleep there for a second? She has been working too hard and he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen her go back to her house since he had to reboot Chidi. Encouraging her to take a shower had been high on his list of priorities but he thinks it might be better to get her to take a nap as soon as this place is back to having only one demon in residence.

Eleanor turns to him, too many emotions twitching on her face for Michael to count, before she looks over at Bad Janet, who is finally looking up from her phone. She’s frowning at Eleanor almost…fearfully?

“It’s a trap.” She whispers, pushing Michael’s hand off of her; “Janet, don’t! It’s a trap!”

“Eleanor!” He follows her as she climbs onto the train.

No way! Surely, they wouldn’t be that ballsy to try something again so soon! He doesn’t want to accuse Eleanor of letting her paranoia get the better of her, because seeing through bullshirt has always been one of her greatest strengths and has almost never let them down before. At the same time he frets at the thought of her setting foot on a Bad Place Express train after what almost happened the last time she was on one, even if that had been partly down to his own malevolent planning.

They enter the cart just in time to see her suspicions confirmed, as another Bad Janet creeps up behind their own, paperclip in hand, ready to subdue her into a tiny marble.

“No!” He grabs Eleanor’s wrist to hold her back, raising his own fingers up, ready to snap a set of magnet handcuffs on that sneaky bench.

But their Janet is quicker than any of them. Already alerted by Eleanor’s cries, she turns and flicks the Bad Janet on the forehead, making her wince back and drop the paperclip.

“Ow! Did you just forking flick me, you fat-?!” She whines before Janet uses the metal to marbleize her instead.

All of three of them let out a unanimous sigh of relief. Eleanor doesn’t let go of Michael’s hand, even as she moves towards Janet. Is she afraid they’re going to try to take him too?

“Tough luck, you pieces of….butt. Damn it, I wish I was better at being mean! Ugh!” Their Janet grunts, glaring at the handcuffed demon. She shoves the Bad Janet marble into his mouth and moves back towards her friends, gladly taking their hands, her eyes on their team leader; “Eleanor…Thank you! If you hadn’t stopped her then…”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” Eleanor’s tone is hard as steel as she almost drags both himself and Janet off the train, shoving the other Bad Janet aside.

Michael is speechless, entranced more than ever by Eleanor’s insane level of perception.

He doesn’t complain that she’s almost hurting his hand by how tight she’s holding onto him. Neither does Janet, if she can feel it. And going by the stumped look on Bad Janet’s face, every immortal being on this platform seems to be taken down a peg or two by the short human at the centre of them all.

She glares at Bad Janet; “Good attempt, but not good enough. That’s the last one you get. Now get the fork out of our neighborhood!”

The Bad Janet bites her lip like a petulant kid who just had her dollhouse crushed. Clearly, they were not expecting this little plan of theirs to be disrupted like last time. Or had that been the idea all along? Have them figure out Chris-slash-Linda as a decoy to not make them see the actual subterfuge that was too occur? Oh. They really were stepping up their game if that was the case. Once upon a time, Michael would have been impressed with his kinds diabolical planning. Now, they tried to kidnap his oldest friend. All he felt for every single demon was contempt, including the darker parts of himself.

He’s fired up now as he bares his teeth to the bitter Bad Janet.

“That’s right, take off! And you can give a Shawn a message from me!” He snarls at her, savagely, “Tell him I said-.”

“Boo-Yah!” Eleanor jeers along with him. He shares a laugh with her, his essence thrilling that they’re still in sync again like they used to be.

He holds up his palm for a high-five but she leaves him hanging. When she squeezes his other hand, he knows that it’s only because she can’t let go. So he curls his fist and bumps her shoulder lightly instead.

Bad Janet rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. We don’t need to sabotage you losers. We know you’ll fork this all up on your own.” She saunters onto the train.

The three of them all stay quiet and still, held together by Eleanor’s iron-clad grip, until the train is fully out of sight. Only then does she let go.

Michael opens his mouth to speak but Eleanor turns to Janet.

“Scan the area. Make sure they’re no other demons here or Janets or anything!” She tells her.

“Eleanor, I-.”

“Do it! Please, Janet, for me!”

Michael blinks at her while Janet’s eyes turn red and turn a full three-sixty in order to get a good sweep of their zone. If it gives Eleanor peace of mind then he won’t object. It probably is a good idea to be thorough as well. Don’t leave anything up to chance.

He keeps an eye on the heavy rise and fall of Eleanor’s collarbone as she watches Janet. There’s more to this than just her being on edge after the attack, he’s sure of it.

“All clear. Everyone here is either a Janet baby, a Derek, a human, one reformed demon and myself.” Janet confirms with her usual upbeat smile; “We’re safe, Eleanor. I promise.”

It doesn’t seem to be enough to convince their leader, who steps closer to look up into Janet’s eyes.

“Yesterday you and I had a talk about what it means to do good things if the Universe keeps taking a dump on us.” Eleanor says to her, “What word did you use to describe what it’s like to find that one person who makes sense amongst all the chaos?”

Michael feels a little awkward. This sounds like it was an intense conversation. Should he really be listening in?

Janet’s expression turns more serious as she look at Eleanor.

“I told you that it’s euphoria.”

Eleanor releases a sigh and throws her arms around Janet, crushing her in a hug. Janet rather awkwardly holds her back, glancing over the top of her blond hair to look at Michael, who shares her bewilderment. If his omniscient companion doesn’t know what is going on with Eleanor right now then how is he supposed to know?

He can definitely agree with Janet’s description though. Eleanor had been that euphoria for him after an eternity of violent pandemonium. He keeps that bit of information to himself.

“I’m so glad we didn’t lose you there, babe.” Eleanor sniffs as she pulls back from the hug, her hands still smoothing over Janet’s sleeves, as if checking to make sure she’s still all there.

“Eleanor, how did you know what they were gonna do?”

Janet’s brow is creased in confusion and Michael is close enough to her to know that not knowing something, especially when it concerns those dearest to her, is one of her greatest fears. Next to losing Jason.

Eleanor clears her throat and shrugs; “Just seemed obvious, y’know. The Chris and Linda thing seemed to be fooled way too easily, I mean he practically gave himself away! It seemed like the perfect ploy. Hit us when we’re most vulnerable, when we let our guard down because we think we’ve beaten them. All they needed was to get you alone.”

“I should have gone on with you straight away.” Michael curses.

“They would have taken one of you, as soon as whoever’s back was turned not to notice.” Eleanor mentions.

He frowns at her. They could swap out Janet with a Bad Janet if they had figured out a way to make that possible. But the only way to swap Michael out with a fake would be…

Oh. Oh, shirt.

He clamps his mouth shut. The idea of his friends being tortured by some mook wearing his face was painful enough to send him spiralling. But the thought of Vicky being here, sabotaging them, getting close to his friends only to hurt them, to make them feel betrayed by him…Oh, that was a new low. Though not nearly as bad as kidnapping Janet.

“There’s no way the Bad Place can send anyone back to us other than train, is there?” Eleanor seems to be keen on checking any possibility.

“Not to my knowledge, which I used to be sure was absolute. But then again, there used to be no way to get to Earth except through Jeff’s door, and they managed to make another. I don’t think there are any guarantees.” Janet tells her, honestly; “But I’ll make sure to do a regular scan for any sign of uninvited demons, I promise.”

“We should also have a group meeting. Have questions prepared to ask each other to test we are who we are, things only we could know, if this is how they intend to get at us.” Eleanor says, beads of sweat on her brow.

It’s rare to see her this tense. She’s usually so good at keeping it together.

Michael dares to touch her shoulder; “We’ll be prepared, Eleanor. Don’t worry.”

She takes a breath and meets his eyes; “I know it’s just…I wanna make sure no one else gets lost.”

Ah. Of course, even though Chidi is still technically around, she may as well have lost him. They all kinda did. Even Michael could admit that he was missing having the all-knowing, sweet nerd around when he was feeling unsure of himself in the ethics department. He can’t imagine the pain Eleanor is going through…

That’s a lie. He has some idea. At least, a little bit. He knows what it’s like to be in love with someone and for them not to even remember your name. But that was different.

It must be worse when you know they once loved you back.

“Hey. You should pat yourself on the back. That was some brilliant quick-thinking, as always! I always said you had a gift for ruining demonic schemes! Granted, it was usually when I was complaining that you had just ruined one of my schemes, but it’s good to see you haven’t lost your edge.” He tries to cheer her up.

It raises a little smile on her face but neither her eyes or her atmosphere seems to match it.

“I’m not as clever as you think, bud. Believe me.”

She moves her hand to rub at her temple. Something definitely seems wrong. Even though her skin is clear, Michael swears he can make out hidden wounds in the other dimensions of her soul. Wounds that weren’t there moments ago, more than just the ethereal shiner left from Chris on her face. There’s cuts and bruises and fractured bones, despite her physical form being perfectly whole.

There’s also a taste of rusted metal in the air which he’s only experienced once before. Back when…No, can’t be, that wouldn’t be possible…

“Are you sure you’re okay? I think you should get some rest, put your feet up. You’ve earned a break.”

Please, have a shower! Even the juices from his true form are starting to be more appealing in comparison.

Miraculously, she doesn’t put up too much of a fight.

She agrees to go home and have a wash and a nap. Michael and the others handle sorting out the neighborhood and making sure the regular humans were unaware of the rogue flying demon earlier. He resists the urge to go check up on her after an hour. Despite Janet’s constant assurances, he can’t help but be on edge now that the Bad Place will be desperate to try anything to sabotage them. They had done enough damage as it is, making him crumble and have to let Eleanor step up to fill his shoes, even if it’s mostly ceremonial. It’s a lot of pressure for one human, even one as incredible as her.

It’s a joy to see her appear, on time, at Mindy’s later. He can see from the freshness on her face that she’s slept. And everyone is grateful that she’s finally had a wash, replacing that strong, stressful B.O with some tropical shower gel.

The suits she was trying out before have gone as well. Instead she’s gone for a pair of comfy jeans and a smart-casual sweater that…

Wait. Did she choose pink to match his pocket-square and bow-tie?

Nah, don’t be silly, Mikey, it’s gotta be a coincidence.

She begins with apologising to Tahani for not listening to her concerns about Linda. Agreeing to a spa day tomorrow is all the two need to make up. She also apologises to all of them about falling short as a team leader. Before any of them can disagree, she’s adamant about owning it, knowing that Jason was right that Simone needs to be paired with Chidi.

Michael barely says a word as he stands back and watches her take charge. She really is the best person for this job, to be their leader. Even after the earlier humiliation and attempted kidnapping, she’s still on her feet, shining as bright as the sun, preparing them with confidence for the tasks ahead. He will never understand how Chidi could not feel inspired by her enough to get over his whole dilemma if it meant staying with her? Michael thinks he would be happy to be retired and let his essence simmer on a red giant if it meant being able to look at her face for eternity.

He really hopes nobody reads his thoughts and tries to hold him to that.

Eleanor finishes by saying they should have the evening off to recharge as this day has been stressful enough. She has a plan about Brent which she will go through with them tomorrow but for now they are due for some downtime. Her eyes glance over to Jason as she says those last words, who seems to pick up on the hint faster than anything he’s noticed before, and he takes Janet’s hand, the two of them heading out the door with smiles on their faces.

Lucky schmucks.

Himself, Eleanor and Tahani leave soon after. He’s about to make his way back to his office, thinking he might look over some old designs, or maybe try to read those rather graphic comics Jason gave him earlier, before he feels a hand on his elbow.

“Hold up, you.” Eleanor says, stopping him with her serious tone; “We need to talk.”

Oh, farts.

He feels like a little kid caught stealing money from the swear jar, which was minus sixteen points, as well as minus twenty points to the parents for owning a swear jar in the first place.

*

Her own screams echo around her as she spins through the void until collapsing out on the solid floor, one hand still clutching the pin onto her chest that she had feared would come loose and leave her spiralling between dimensions forever.

She stumbles to her feet, the chambers blurring around her, her eyes struggling to regain their focus.

It’s hard for her to tell she’s even ended up at the right place before she hears a familiar groan.

“Oh, for the love of Norman Reedus’ hair!” The Judge complains, entering the room just as Eleanor manages to stop herself from throwing up; “I was impressed by your tenacity to start with, honey, but it’s starting to get seriously annoying.”

Eleanor grits her teeth as she straightens up.

“You…You have to give us another chance.”

Gen look affronted at that; “I have to? You do remember who you’re talking to, right? The test is over! You lost! End of story! Bub-bye!”

“You said that if the Bad Place sabotaged us again then we would get to reset!” Eleanor reminds her; “Well, they did! They kidnapped our Janet and then manipulated us into locking Michael up for the rest of the year, not knowing he’d be in a Bad Janet’s void being tortured for centuries! We didn’t stand a chance!”

The Judge’s eyes widen. She has to reach for a folder that immediately shoots down from a tube in the room. She gives it a quick read through.

“Damn! What a twist, huh? Makes me wanna watch some Black Mirror.” She comments, lazily; “Still. You had every chance to make it work despite Bad Janet’s attempts, but you didn’t come close.”

Eleanor holds herself back from strangling her. Why is that the eternal well-being of every soul in existence has been left in the hands of a heartless tv addict?!

“I just had to let Michael sacrifice himself a third time for me to get here to you.” Eleanor tells her; “I made the mistake of not trusting him before…of not noticing when one of my friends had been taken and the other was being held captive and in pain…Please. I’m begging you. Even if you don’t want to do the test again, if you think it’s all worthless, just…don’t let them suffer anymore because of me. Please.”

The last time she had been here to plead their case, Eleanor had been a headstrong tower of determination. She hadn’t been willing to accept anything less than the best option for her friends after everything they had fought for. That was a long time ago now. So much had been lost. Far too much pain endured. She dare not ask for too much.

Only a little bit of mercy. Not for her. For them.

*

This wasn’t quite the location he was expecting to have a serious talking-to in, but given how the arcade is closed and empty, he supposes it’s a good place to be yelled at without attracting attention. Plus there’s a novelty hammer at the Wack-A-Mole if she feels like beating him up for some reason.

She perches herself in one of the booths at the bowling alley, hands folded in her lap. Michael hovers a little near one of the dispensers.

“…Do you want me to start up a game?” He asks, thinking he would have bought his personalised ball from the office if he’d known.

“Maybe later.” She pats the spot beside her; “Come sit.”

She’s being really weird. More off than usual since Chidi lost his memory. Even more than the moment after he had given her all of her afterlife memories back. Was that was this was about? Janet had said that a possible side-effect was being able to see beyond the concept of time. Was that how she had found out about the attempt to kidnap Janet? Was their Team Leader now also a clairvoyant? It would explain that coppery smell from earlier.

Could she see if it was worth him playing again to try to beat his strike record this time?

He moves over and takes a seat with her in the pleather booth, keeping a good enough distance. His mind can’t help but shuffle through a variety of possible things she’s about to say. Maybe she’s decided she doesn’t want to be a team leader anymore. Maybe it is too much and it’s time he did the job that was supposed to be for him anyway. He will try if she wants to, for her, as terrified as he is of failing them. Or maybe it’s the opposite and she doesn’t feel she need him as an assistant anymore? It’s not like he’s contributed all that much. Her and Janet do fine on their own.

All he does is fall apart. He couldn’t even protect her from Chris’ attack. Fork, he wouldn’t have been able to save Janet if she hadn’t alerted them both, he was too busy showing off.

What use is he really?

Eleanor looks over to him; “Is there anything you want to tell me, Michael? Any secrets you might be keeping from us?”

He takes a breath. It feels as though she’s undressing him, and not in any sort of appealing way. More the exposed, vulnerable, this skin suit is all that stands between me and losing your friendship way.

“I suspect you already know.” He replies, quietly.

“I might do. But I’m giving you a chance to own up and tell me yourself.” She explains to him; “I don’t wanna have to drag it out of you. We already did the whole ‘lying is bad’ lesson years ago, when you told us you could get us straight to the Good Place, remember?”

He did. The look of disappointment on her face haunted him to this day.

This was different though, wasn’t it? He had lied to get them on his side back then, back when he still an unethical demon only looking out for himself, and then when he became friends with them it only made sense to keep the lie going so as not to upset them. This time he didn’t so much as make up a lie but conceal the truth. Was that just as bad?

He can feel Eleanor’s eyes watching him. He doesn’t want to look up in case he has to relive seeing those disappointed green irises.

“I had a breakdown was because Shawn has called me before you came in and told me that they had invented a Michael-suit which they intended to make Vicky wear while she was torturing you all when we lost.” He confesses, feeling the weight on his chest be lifted, only to be replaced by a heavier boulder of shame; “Now the reason I didn’t tell you is because they said they would just erase your memories of me telling you, so it was pointless!”

Eleanor’s lack of reaction confirms for him that she already knew this. Somehow.

“Was that the only reason, bud?” There’s a surprisingly reassuring layer of softness in her question.

He sighs; “No…I was also afraid that, if I told you, you would spend every moment wondering if I was still really me or being afraid I was Vicky…And we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”

How could they if she was constantly suspecting him? If he was having to always prove himself?

He lets out an ironic laugh.

“Go on, say it.” He tells her.

“Say what?”

“Say that I’m an idiot.” He says; “Say ‘Oh, Michael, you’re such a dummy! Of course, I could tell if it was really you! I was able to get four of your clues in your roast speech to know the real you, do you think I’d be stupid enough to fall for…’” He stops suddenly when he hears a sniff.

Michael glances over to see Eleanor hold her face in her hand.

She’s…Oh, shirt. He made her cry?

“No, oh, Eleanor.” He shuffles closer in the booth, reaching his hand out; “Please don’t be upset, I…I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you! And I’m sorry I left you to take over from me when I freaked out-.”

“Michael, please. If you say sorry again, I might scream.” She chokes out a sob against her half-curled fist.

He goes quiet. He’s very confused right now.

He hates seeing her cry worse than anything. When he’d seen the tears on her face after saying goodbye to Chidi as she sat in the empty pews, he’d wanted nothing more than to be the one to go over and take her into his arms so she could cry into his suit. He couldn’t do that as he was the only one who could take Chidi to have his memory wiped and make sure his body was sat safely in the waiting room, in stasis mode.

Chidi isn’t here now. No one needs him except, maybe, the human sat less than six feet away from him now. The human he cares for more than anyone else in his existence.

He has to summon some courage from the depths of his essence to reach out a hand towards her.

Incredibly, she leans against his fingertips as soon as they brush against her cheek. Even more astounding, she holds it there with her own, her thumb squeezing against his.

“I’m crying because you’re wrong.” She answers the question that hadn’t even left his lips yet; “I…I wish I was always able to know these things, bud. I wish I could promise you that I’d always be the best friend and not let you down when you need me but…I fork things up. I don’t think that will ever stop…But I wanna keep trying to do better when I mess things up in case that one thousandth idea we try is the right one…”

Her words ring eerily close to what he was planning on saying to her earlier when he thought she was feeling too down about their recent set-backs.

“It’s not the same with friends though. When we fork up things with people we love, there isn’t always a thousandth chance to fix things. Sometimes we only get a couple and then, when we wanna make things right…It’s too late.” She keeps a hold of his hand, lowering it slightly, looking down at his fingers with tears still on her cheeks.

He edges a little closer.

“Good thing I’m immortal so I’m not planning on disappearing anywhere.” He tries to comfort.

She shakes her head; “Doesn’t mean someone can’t take you away from me if I’m careless enough to let you go. Or Janet. Or Chidi, or anyone we care about. We never know when a moment will be our last one together, in case Shawn tries something new, or maybe Gen decides to say ‘fork it’ and just ends the experiment on a whim because she hated the Game of Thrones finale, whatever. Each moment is precious. We can’t take it for granted.”

She strokes her finger around the back of his hand in a little circle. It makes the hairs on his arm raise in a funny little way, not quite ticklish but…nice.

“You get me, bud?” Eleanor asks him.

“…I…Think so.” Michael blinks; “Is this you being mad at me? I’m not quite sure what’s going on.”

She lets out a laugh and shakes her head.

“I’m not mad. I get why you were afraid.” She gives him a smile; “Thing is, trust is a two-way street, dude. You can’t expect us to always trust you if you don’t trust your friends.”

“I do trust you!” He protests. Since when was that an issue?

“Trusting us to be able to trust you is part of that trust between friends…” She says before cringing; “Shut up, I know what I’m trying to say here.”

Really? Because this is confusing the ever-loving fork out of him.

“What I’m saying is that you need to be honest with us about _everything_.” Eleanor states, moving his hand so it’s being held by hers to bridge the gap between them; “Even if you’re afraid of how we’ll react.”

“But I remember Chidi saying that it’s not unethical to keep a secret if you think it will hurt more to reveal it.”

A look passes on Eleanor’s face that tells him she’s wishing her ex-boyfriend was around and with his memory restored just so she could slap him.

“Yeah, loophole, sure. But this isn’t lying to Jason about being with Janet to break up him and Tahani, nor is it me not telling Chidi about our tape from Mindy’s in case it freaks him out and he breaks my heart. We’re at war here, Michael. You keeping secrets about plans the Bad Place has puts us at risk of attack. You saw it today for yourself.”

He frowns, still aching at the thought of what could have…No, stop it. It didn’t. Janet is safe.

“How did you know about that suit, Eleanor?”

“I…” She blinks and rubs at her head again; “I’m not sure, I…Chris must have blabbed about it. Maybe he was dumb enough to think one of the Janet babies was a demon, not realising this isn’t the same experiment as your old one.”

That’s a ridiculous excuse but, at the same time, Chris is enough of a himbo for it to be in character of him to do so.

She sniffs as the last of her tears dry up and she smiles at him.

“I forgive you for not telling me. But that’s the last lie between us, deal? I want us to be a team. Did you notice the team colors I went with for us?” She points from his suit to her sweater.

Michael beams as he feels his chest flutter.

“Oh! I did notice, but I never thought….What a fun idea! I’ve never had anyone to color coordinate with before.”

“Me neither, dude. But we’re gonna running this place together, as a team, so we need to act like one. That means cute, dorky, matching colors…and zero lies or secrets.” She squeezes his hand; “You give me that, and I promise to trust you. Deal?”

He takes a breath and nods, squeezing back; “Deal.”

It takes him back to when he agreed to join their group. To be a part of Team Cockroach. He had squirmed with embarrassment at how low he’d had to sink back in the day. It had turned out that joining a team was the best decision he’d ever made. He loved the idea of this one, him and Eleanor running this experiment side-by-side, all the more.

His thumb rubs itself over the back of her hand. Her skin is so soft. He can’t help but see that shadow of a fracture through her wrist joint. It’s fading. He can’t be seeing things, can he?

“Did something happen to you, Eleanor?” He asks.

“Yeah, in case you forget, I got a demon’s fist in my face, man.”

“After that.” He corrects, sternly; “You said no more secrets.”

She goes silent for a moment.

“I…I felt weird. Like I was about to faint when Janet took Chris on the train and I…had this freaky ash dream that only lasted half a second, but…”

He had thought she seemed ready to collapse when she stumbled. He’d been half-ready to catch her and sweep her off her feet….No, that wouldn’t have been appropriate in front of their enemies.

Eleanor was able to have a random premonition from nowhere that saved Janet at the perfect time?

He’d never heard of such a thing. And yet, when it occurred, he’d tasted that coppery ting around her. The taste of temporal particles that he hadn’t seen since he’d gone down to create a new time stream by saving Eleanor and the others lives on Earth. If Eleanor obtained radiation from her soul shifting through a time vortex then…

“Did I hurt you? In the dream?” He has to know.

She looks appalled and then laughs.

“No! I mean…I don’t quite remember but…I highly doubt it.” She shuffles closer and reaches to put her other hand on his arm; “You’re Michael! Even in my subconscious, I don’t think you could hurt a fly.”

“Hey, I can be downright terrifying when I want to.” He says, not quite able to summon the dark, demonic sneer he once wielded when he let the mask of an angel drop in front of her.

She just smiles, endeared; “Sure, you made that painting of Twitchy the clown in my house very scared.”

Everything scared Twitchy, that meant nothing! Never mind.

“Don’t worry, Michael. I’m pretty sure you didn’t hurt me. Or you didn’t mean to.”

Then why do those finger marks on her collar bone look as though they match his own digits?

Is it better that he never knows the answer?

“If anything, I think the dream was about me hurting you…and how I can avoid that becoming reality.” She says, “Because that is the last thing I would ever wanna do. I love you, man. You know that, right?”

He feels the air leave his body for a moment, not that he needs it. Just for the drama.

“…I do now.” He says, blushing.

Her hand reaches up to touch his cheek. It saps a little more energy out of him. Her touch always managed to make him feel incredibly weak, yet never in a sickly way. More like he could break apart in her hands and it would be worth it just to be held by her.

There’s a moment hanging between them that feels as alien as the time particles fading around her, until she finally moves her hand back and gets to her feet.

“Now that’s settled. Let’s start giving those balls a good roll, shall we?”

He widens his eyes at her.

She points her thumb over to the dispenser; “Bowling?”

“Oh! Right, of course!”

“And they say my mind is in the gutter.” Eleanor laughs, bumping him with her shoulder as he stands up to follow her.

Clearly, her brain is so horny that it’s started spilling dirty thoughts out and they’ve become contagious. Michael tries not to blush as he goes to write their names on the scoreboard.

*

“Okay. Here’s where I’m at.” Gen takes a seat in her big chair opposite where Eleanor is stood with her palms on the desk; “As promised, I will reset most of the experiment.”

“Most?” She frowns, fingers curling onto the wood.

She wants to get this sorted as fast as possible. Who knows what those demons are doing to her friends back in the Bad Place.

“It’s too exhausting to start from scratch and, as you’ve stated very loudly, that second attempt with Chidi in the mix was messed with from the start.” The Judge rolls her eyes; “So what I’m gonna do is reset the timeline to the moment before Janet was kidnapped. Everyone’s memories will be erased, except for moi, being omniscient and all.”

“Won’t everything just happen the same way again?” Eleanor asks.

“Hopefully not. Because you’re going to remember.”

Her?

It’s going to be all down to her to make sure they don’t repeat the same mistakes as before?

“Michael? Shawn? Janet?”

“They won’t have the foggiest.” The Judge confirms; “Even your mind isn’t fully equipped to handle being reversed a whole year. Most of the details will fade after a day and it will probably all seem like a bad dream. But you’ll remember just enough to save Janet and Michael. You’ll also never forget knowing what is at stake if you lose. But I can’t let you keep too much knowledge about things that happen during that year, or you’ll be at too much of an advantage.”

It’s a rather odd thought, the idea that for once it will be her who has more memories than Michael or Janet. They will be the ones being ‘rebooted’ while she watches from the side and tries to play puppet master in pre-planned events. If her friends weren’t all being tortured at this moment, she would let herself revel in the power boost.

But all that matters right now is agreeing to whatever will save them. Save humanity.

Give them a second chance.

She wonders if she will remember finding out about Michael’s crush on her, even if it was in one of the most disturbing ways possibly revealed to her. Was it even real or just Bad Janet messing with the both of them? It shouldn’t really be important but…In a weird, sad way, it does feel like killing a part of him to save an older version, even if it’s a mercy killing after all he’s been through. Considering what the alternative is.

She can't keep her promise to save the friends she let down. But perhaps this is the next best thing. 

She takes a breath and meets Gen’s eyes.

“I accept.”

“Now, if this one goes south, that’s it! No third chances, no more interrupting my time with Anthony Head!”

“Fine! Just please, do it, for f-!”

She snaps her fingers. Everything flashes white.

Eleanor’s eyes open.

*

“A little to the left! Nope, you’re leaning too far. Your other left!”

“Stop trying to make me lose focus because you’re losing!” Michael does indeed inch himself more to the right before he pulls his arm back and swings it forward, letting his ball roll down.

Four intense seconds pass before he sees that all too satisfying collision and the sound of pins toppling helplessly in the wake of their destruction.

He lets out a cheer, punching the air and doing a little jump.

Eleanor applauds him from behind, ever the graceful loser. It’s only fair that he has something to beat her ash at, considering all the other games he’s played with her that she’s won over him, none of them nearly as fun as bowling.

“Well done! You might suck at torturing humans but you’re definitely a pro at making those pins fall to their knees.” Eleanor hands him a beer after she’s popped the cap off.

He takes a seat on the stall while she stays perched on top of the dispenser.

“Ah, I’m so happy you encouraged me to rebuild this place! I was afraid we wouldn’t have a chance to hang out like this.” He tells her, taking a sip, still revelling in the buzz of his little victory.

“Those were my only two conditions, remember? Clown house for me and Chidi, arcade for me and my demon bud.” She grins at him, clinking her bottle against his; "This place is special to me. It's where I think the two of us really started to click. I think it was right here, actually," she gestures to the dispenser; "I came so close to letting myself slip. Telling you who I really was. I said how 'having fun was my mantra' and that wasn't exactly something Saint Eleanor would say."

"I didn't even notice, I was enjoying myself so much." He tells her, blissfully; "Honestly, I think you could've said anything and I'd have been fine to let it slide so long as we kept having fun."

"Damn, now you tell me, I could've wrapped the devil around my finger!"

_Oh, but you did, Shellstrop._

He’s happy to see that all the heavy tension has mostly faded around her. The booze probably helped, along with being able to chill out and get things off their chests. He was so worried that nothing would be able to bring a real smile on her face after losing Chidi but there’s no denying the light in her eyes as she looks at him now.

“Are you still okay with the house now that Chidi is…?” He ventures to ask, not wanting to spoil her mood; “It’s just, I noticed you seemed to be staying away. I could always make you a little apartment for yourself during the experiment?”

“No, I love my little house, quiet and freaky as it is.” She tells him, earnestly; “It gets a little lonely sometimes. Maybe it just needs someone to keep me company some nights? You or one of the guys could crash or…we could have some slumber parties?”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted a slumber party! They sound so interesting! I mean it’s like an oxymoron, parties are supposed to be full of energy but this one is for resting, it’s so bizarre!”

She giggles at his enthusiasm; “Every week then, all five of us will get together. And, y’know, any other night you might just wanna come on your own, as I doubt your office is all that comfy to rest up. I mean you don’t even have a bed, do you?”

“Of course not, I don’t sleep.”

She tilts her head at him; “But you _can_. Remember all those hotels we stayed in on Earth during our soul squad mission? That one where they gave us a king instead of two singles?”

He blushes and looks away. He had insisted on being fine with sitting in the chair and reading while she took the bed. After all, it was still rather early in that stage of their friendship since he and Janet walked back into their lives and doomed them for eternity. He’d have had no problem curling up with his Eleanor from #802, especially given how often they spent nights laying on the beach together. But this Eleanor didn’t have those memories, she didn’t remember what he used to be like. How much he had changed because of her influence.

And yet, she’d still tugged him onto the bed with her and ordered him to lay down after having drove them several hours from Tarantula Springs to Phoenix, demanding that he try to get some rest. She had been extra bossy to him that evening, as if trying to prove how flawed his whole Self-Appointed Parental Figure attempt had been. She’d still shuffled close to him and thrown a hand across his chest as she snored into his shoulder.

And yes, he had managed to fall asleep.

Much like eating and drinking, it was a function that his human body was designed to experience, and yet he could choose not to without it risking his health. Sleeping just seemed rather pointless and had never been pleasant when he’d tried it alone. With her, it had been something special. Waking up to the sight of her face felt like waking up in the Universe for the first time.

He feels rather awkward at the idea of taking Chidi’s space in his and Eleanor’s bed. It had been different when they weren’t together, when Chidi wasn’t even aware of any feelings he had for the woman who had stolen both their hearts in the end. He supposes that, technically, Chidi is back in the same oblivious position as then, except it’s different now.

However…if Eleanor wants him there…if it means that it will help her sleep…

“Sounds like a plan.” He agrees, his beer turning warm with how tight he’s holding the bottle.

She keeps watching him, even when his eyes keep looking between his bowling shoes.

“Michael…Is there anything else you wanna tell me?”

His artificial lungs do that weird thing where they decide to stop working when he needs them most. He is ready to deflect before he remembers that, if she already found out about the suit, there might be other things she’s already aware of without his knowledge. This might be another test to see if he’s still willing to lie to her.

If lying means losing her trust and if losing her trust means losing her then…

Any sense of pride or self-worth or sanity can go fork itself.

He shuffles in his seat; “…I’ve given you back all your memories. You seen me sink to my lowest. Can you do me a favor and just ask me what it is specifically so I can be honest with you?”

There’s nothing as pressing or relevant, that he can think of, like the suit was. He’s more than prepared to be corrected though.

She knows more than she’s letting on. She’s seen more.

And that frightens him a little.

She gets off the dispenser and grabs one of the stalls to place herself in front of him, one of her hands reaching to remove his from around the bottle.

“…Do you have feelings for me?”

Fork! She’s just gonna come out and ask him like that?

He almost drops the bottle.

“I…Eleanor, what the fork did you see in that dream?!”

“Answer the question, dude, please.”

His eyes can’t help but glance at the hidden crack on her jawline. A fist obviously collided with her chin and his one would match the clear indent. His hand shakes as he panics at the thought of him, even some other version of him, being capable of something like that. He’s afraid to ask Janet. She must be able to see it as well. She might have even felt the shift at the platform when that tiny tear in the fabric of space-time opened and closed.

The moment that saved her not-life and…possibly stopped a future which Michael is now terrified of, if his theory is true. That was no mere random act of Shellstrop intuition that saved them. There is more to this. He is certain he could have taken these secrets with him all the way to retirement otherwise.

“I care about you. Deeply.” He whispers, eyes having to look down at her hand, which even then has shadows of angry cuts; “You were my first…The first being I met in this entire billion year life of mine that I ever truly cared for. I owe everything to you, because you helped me, because you…inspired me. And you continue to do so, even when you’re at your worst, it’s far better than I could hope to be. You give me hope that I can be more than just a…beast. You taught me what it means to have a real friend and how it feels to have someone worry about you. To have someone you’re willing to lose everything for…”

He takes a breath as he smooths his thumb over the swiftly fading marks. If he’s somehow able to undo the damage that a darker, future version of him inflicted on her then he will continue to pour his heart out to her, ignoring the burning agony it’s putting him through with each word.

“I don’t need to sleep because I don’t need to dream of anything better than what’s in front of me, so long as you’re here.” He tells her, “I don’t quite understand how humans feel…things. What all these emotions mean or if they work the same for demons. I don’t know if how I feel for you is anything like what Janet feels for Jason or what you and Chidi share…All I know is that it’s the most wonderful…and terrifying feeling I’ve ever known. I think I…”

She stays quiet. He’d partly been wishing for her to cut him off at this point. Eleanor rarely lets anyone else who isn’t her beloved professor talk for so long uninterrupted.

He curls his fingers around hers.

“I think I’m in love with you. No, I…I’m certain of it. In fact, other than being certain that able bodied people who take up disabled parking spaces are the worst, it’s the only thing I am certain of.” He tells her, his voice struggling to finish, feeling scratchy in his throat; “I love you.”

If this is a prank then it will be the most diabolical and cruellest that has been played in any afterlife, let alone the Bad Place. If saying all of this has ruined their friendship then he might not be able to resist the urge to snap and erase her memories back to five minutes ago, no matter how unethical it is. It’s not fair to make him suffer like this, even if it is karma getting back at him.

Eleanor shuffles closer and rubs the tears off his face that he didn’t even know were there. When he looks up, he can see that they’re matching. At least, she doesn’t look sad like before. Not as much.

“Definitely a truth I could have been told over a year ago, dude.” She tells him with a smile.

It always felt like the wrong time. Would they ever have had a right one? They weren’t as close for it to have meant anything before he told her about her and Chidi being together. It might have scared her off. Or at least have her spray something nasty in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” He tells her, another tear falling.

“Oh, dude, why?” She puts his bottle on the floor and clutches both of his hands into her lap; “Listen. It’s never a bad thing when someone tells you they love you.”

Not bad, just awkward and uncomfortable and absolute agony for the one saying the words aloud.

“Even though you don’t feel the same?”

“And who said I don’t?”

Huh.

Oh. Wait

What?!

He glances up at her; “…You…?”

Eleanor beams, her face so close to his now; “I love you too. Yeah, Chidi is my soul mate, but you…It’s like you are my soul, dude, or a missing part of it. We’re so alike. No one gets me like you do. No one makes me laugh or can pick me up when I’m a messy bench like you can. I never want you to think that you’re any less important to me than Chidi is. I need you both. I love you both. Plus, it helps that you picked a pretty hot skin suit as well. And even without that…I’m sure you’d be a hottie, whatever form you took.”

He shakes his head. He was almost ready to believe her but now it feels like she’s just saying things to make him feel good.

“Trust me, if you saw what I am, what I really am…” He cringes, looking away, “You would never be able to look at me the same way, even with the suit on. You wouldn’t even wanna be friends with… _that_.”

He doesn’t even want to begin to describe to her what horrors lay beneath this gorgeously distinguished human face that’s not even his skin.

When her fingers find his cheek and bring his eyes to her again, her smile tells him that she probably already has some idea of what is there.

Crab.

“That sounds like a challenge, buddy. And you know I’m always up for those.”

*

Janet’s void is a little less disturbing the second time she enters. Tahani still looks ready to topple over on her heels before she remembers how to move about in this non-space.

“On the plus side, at least we’re not Janets again.” Her British friend comments; “No offense but I do put a lot of thought into how my dresses look on me before I put them on, not my friends who I randomly happen to switch bodies with.”

“None taken.” Janet says, joining the three of them as she guides them along.

“Where’s Michael?” Eleanor asks.

“He’s getting himself ready. Well, to be more accurate, he’s letting you guys get a chance to get yourselves ready.” She explains to them.

The nightmarish events still flashing vaguely through Eleanor’s head were already too much. She is certain there is nothing that Michael could show her that would add more fear to her mind right now. Thoughts of him being locked up, being tortured, being corrupted and brainwashed into putting his hands on her, having to fight himself for control of his body. Eleanor having to abandon him to Shawn.

Did any of that really happen? She wants to hope that it’s just the most awful of premonitions. A warning of what could happen if they fail with no real harm suffered.

Her head is so sore, the pain only easing when she allows each image to fade, becoming lost like any dream she’s woken up to. Unless they involved mail men or Rhianna or Rhianna dressed as a mail lady then they weren’t worth digging up from her subconscious.

What she’s certain of is the feelings the dream left her with.

The fear and suspicion of what the Bad Place is capable of. Knowing better than to underestimate them.

The knowledge that trust in her friends and having their trust in return is vital.

And also, regret. Regret about mistakes that have yet to come to pass but can be avoided, if she tries. Even though she has no memory of what exactly happened, there’s a vision in her head of Michael looking devastated, because of something she did or said. Something that made him feel as though he wasn’t wanted among their group. As if they didn’t adore every inch of him, demon or otherwise.

She needed to prove that to him now. It was a risky move and one that had taken a lot of convincing on her part. The dude is so shy and insecure. There only seemed to be one way Eleanor could prove that his friends would love him no matter what.

Janet came up with the idea for it to be possible without risking the experiment, or anyone’s safety for that matter.

“Now, remember, Michael did warn me that his true form is designed to be…gross, to put it bluntly, so everyone prepare yourselves. Jason, you’ll be fine. Tahani, babe, please don’t faint on us.” Eleanor tells the others.

“Oh, please, Eleanor! I am not some simple, weak-willed Nancy from Belgravia who goes dizzy at the sight of blood. Do have a little faith in me.”

“What about the time you told me to burn down my bud hole because you saw a spider in there?” Jason asks.

“It was a dog-spider with a poisonous tale, that’s a little more understandable!” She deflects.

“Well, Michael might look even more freaky than that, so keep it together.” Eleanor tells her, “At least until we can erase your memory afterwards if it is too much. Also, Janet, are we gonna be too small to see? Michael said he was pretty…gigantic.”

She can hear Jason rubbing his hands together, getting more eager by the second.

“I’ve scaled up your sizes while in my void so you’re nearly the same. Right now you’re all just a few feet short of six thousand.” Their all knowing friend informs them.

“Oooh, this might be worth it for the chance to be even taller than usual.” Tahani grins, patting herself down, as if she was able to have any grasp of how big she is with nothing to compare it to; “And giving Michael a self-esteem boost, of course.”

“C’mon, stop stalling! I wanna see it!!” Jason whines like a bored five-year-old.

Right.

“Okay. Mikey…Ready or not. Come on out.” She calls.

There’s a slight flicker of light as something passes through one layer of reality into another within the void. The group all fall silent, watching as several orange tentacles peek their way, cautiously, through the gap, hovering in a space above the ‘floor’, as much as there is one. It stretches up to a long neck with a triangular peak that is still a few feet taller than the top of Tahani’s head. The being carries with it its own aura of flames, some in large red bursts, others smaller and blue, matching the several eyes up its long, moist body.

It glides its many teeth-coated tentacles through the air, as if it was moving through a different atmosphere to their own, one made of liquid instead of empty space. It holds itself back, clearly nervous, a couple of its larger limbs moving shyly over its eyes. The eyes that, even without their glasses, are unable to hide that dorky, sweet Architect personality.

“Oh…mama.” Tahani utters, having to reach for Eleanor’s hand, remembering her promise.

“Woah…Michael, you look FREAKIN’ AWESOME!” Jason exclaims, bouncing off his toes.

There’s an uncertain squeak from the other end of the void, one long tentacle nervously circling its tip below.

“It’s okay, Michael. I made sure they can’t smell you if you wanna come closer.” Janet says, reassuringly, “You won’t hurt them either.”

Eleanor, though having prepared herself for all sorts, still feels rather stunned at the image before her. Obviously she’s no stranger to what a squid looks like, though usually as fried calamari. She doesn’t think she would be able to eat that ever again, not when it reminds her of her best friend. What Michael said is probably true. She won’t be able to get this image out of her head when she looks at him, at least not for good. But. That doesn’t have to be bad thing. It’s a shock to start but, the longer she stares, the more she sees those little motions and looks from his eyes, the more she sees him. And how could that ever be unattractive?

She has to tug Tahani a little closer but her friend joins her in coming to meet Michael half way, Jason already darting forward and skipping around the giant squid, asking all sorts of questions even though there doesn’t seem to be a mouth for Michael to reply.

“How do you use the teeth if they’re not in your mouth? Are they more like claws? What’s keeping all that fire going? Do you live in water or lava or neither?” Jason prattles until Michael clamps one of the tentacles over his mouth.

All it does is make the Florida stoner cheer even harder, reaching his hands up to get a good grip around his friend’s arm.

“Are you strong? Can you lift us up? Oooh, can you squeeze me until my eyes get big but not enough that they pop?”

Eleanor laughs when she hears the squid give an irate groan that is unmistakably their demon buddy wishing for retirement. He indulges Jason by lifting him up, even though there isn’t technically a floor beneath them anyway.

“Oh, Michael. You do look…absolutely horrific, I won’t lie, but in the most charmingly abstract way of course!” Tahani tries her best to compliment; “Though I will say, the shade of your skin does bring out more of the blue in your eyes, you should consider wearing blood orange more often.”

There’s a crease around two of his blue orbs and Eleanor is certain he’s trying to smile.

“This is kinda cool.” Janet flicks a switch they didn’t know was there and suddenly the ‘lights’ go out.

As in, the white of the void changes to black.

What saves them from being plunged into blind darkness, is the light of the flames from Michael’s skin, as well as all the little luminous dots decorating his body and tentacles.

“Now I can agree, that is the shirt!” Eleanor beams; “I want a toy version to use as a lamp in my room.”

“I concur! It takes me back to when I helped film those episodes of Blue Planet with my good friend David.” The socialite gasps in true awe; “Michael, darling, you do look beautiful!”

Tahani probably regrets that heartfelt compliment when the fire squid reaches forward and wraps one of her tentacles around her, pulling her close to his body. She squirms at first, while Eleanor and Jason laugh, watching her wriggle uncomfortably as she’s pressed against the squishy body, before she gives in and starts laughing herself, deciding to accept the embrace once she’s used to it.

It’s the most all of them have laughed together in a long time. If only Chidi was here to complete the set. Eleanor hopes they can all do this again, only with her soul mate here to watch, even if it’s yet another chance for Michael to scare the shirt outta him.

“See, buddy? I told ya.” Eleanor steps forward and places her hand on the side of Michael’s long body; “Who wouldn’t wanna be friends with a beautiful fire squid?”

Another tentacle curls around her back and pushes her close as she’s already about to put her arms around him. It is a bit weird to start, a little squishy, but still very warm, even without feeling the flames or the effects of what was said to be rather fatal juice dripping from his pores. It doesn’t matter. She’s met far more gross men in her life. And she’s never met anyone as sweet as the demon in her arms.

*

He’s so lucky. Lucky to have friends like these. Lucky that they still want him.

After all he’s done, after how much he keeps failing, after they’ve seen and touched the real him, even if it was a rather diluted version. When Jason was finally somewhat bored with being tossed about and Tahani gotten more than used to holding hands or tentacles with a billion year old abomination of hell, Janet released them from her void and Michael happily put his human suit back on. He had breathed a sigh of relief as he hugged his own chest with his dumb human arms, so little and limited in comparison to his tentacles, but far safer when it came to hugging his humans without having to be in the boundaries of a Janet void. This was him, he told himself. This was who he wanted to be, even if just pretended.

But he appreciated the gesture from his friends. From Eleanor.

There was very little doubt left in him now that they loved him, fiery suckers and all.

And Eleanor…

He watches her sleep on the bed, after she passed out before the ending of Shape of Water. She said she had already seen it and he’s certain she knew it would make him tear up. He’d turned off the TV and carried her up the ledge to her mattress, laying down beside her as she’d made him swear he would. He tugs the duvet up over them both and watches her sleep.

Will she have even more dreams that reveal secrets to her from the future? Should he be afraid of what she might know that he doesn’t?

His fingers travel across her clavicle, feeling through her t-shirt. He can’t quite see wounds on her that had shown up before but…

He presses his fingertip to the base of her neck.

His mind flashes loudly.

_They’re in her room, only it’s not her room. They’ve twisted it up. Designed a cheapened, dirty version of it to keep her in._

_To keep them both._

_Her blood is on the wall, the floor, his hands._

_She’s begging him to stop. Screaming his name._

_“Stop it! You don’t wanna do this! Michael, stop!”_

_And he wants to!_

_Fork, he wants to but he can’t stop his fist from smashing into-_

Michael wrenches his hand off. It’s the only thing that will take him away from the visions swarming in his mind. Memories he shouldn’t have access to. Not anymore, he thinks. He remembers every single thing since his creation at the dawn of time, yet there seems to be something new which is forbidden, even to him.

And now he knows why.

Eleanor lets out a tiny whimper and shuffles closer towards him. He should gently push her aside. He’s…dangerous, isn’t he? It doesn’t matter about what is inside the suit. He doesn’t need flames or encrusted teeth to harm her. Just whatever managed to get a hold of him in whatever alternate timeline she slipped out of to join them, to save them. Just like he once did for them.

Her hand reaches out and he can’t bear to reject her.

He lets it fall on his chest and she curls in closer, pressing her face to his body. He wants to clutch her to him, be as near as she allows him to be, even if what he truly desires can never be is, as someone else, someone far more deserving, has already taken that place in her heart. She said that he doesn’t mean any less to her than Chidi. Is that…really possible? His whole understanding of soul mates, based purely on what he stole from human mythology, was that they only came in pairs. He would be content in second place, it would be far more he could have hoped for. But to believe that he’s Chidi’s equal, given what he is and what he’s done, what he suspects he could do if things go terribly wrong, is too much for him to try believing in.

The inside of his skull stings, as if being scraped by something sharp and intruding. The image of a black thorn invades his thoughts before it fades away.

Michael rests his head beside hers, his hand laying on her hair, a finger a circling a blond strand around, watching the hint of a smile play on her lips. Lips he will never touch with his own, unless she allows him to brush close to them if he kisses her cheek. He’ll steal what little glimpses of a lover’s affection he can get. He is a demon, after all.

But he knows his place. So long as it’s at her side, so long as she wants him, he thinks he can get through another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for going for the easy 'reset' choice please remember that I never intended this to be more than a one-shot. And at least resets/reboots are in keeping with the theme of this show so I can be let off hopefully!


End file.
